A WORM BY ANY OTHER NAME
by D.M. Baird
Summary: NEWLY REVISED AND SEPARATED INTO CHAPTERS! -- Crichton and crew prepare to take on Scorpius, and almost nothing goes according to plan. AU. One evilcharacter dies who is still alive on the show. Sorry, but I had to do it.
1. You do see the inherent flaw in that app...

  
  


Chapter 1.  
"You do see the inherent flaw in that approach, don't you?"

  


"No choice, Chiana. I either go after Scorpius or he comes after me. I'm tired of running," he told her as he put his long black leather coat on, and checked to make sure Winona was secure in his thigh holster.

Chiana glanced down at Winona and a sly smile flitted across her face. "I don't want you to go down to the commerce planet, Crichton."

"Why, Pip, did you see something happening? One of your visions?" he asked the Nebari.

"Yeah, I saw you get killed, Crichton. And I've got a bad feeling about this planet, and about your plan. Don't go, okay?" While she talked she had moved closer to him and quickly grabbed for his pulse pistol before he had a chance to realize her intention.

"Come on, Chiana, give it back!" he ordered, and he held his hand out, waiting for her to comply. She moved away from him and he lunged for his gun, but Chiana was lighter on her feet and quickly danced away.

"I know you won't go down there without your pulse pistol, so give it up Crichton, 'cause you aren't getting this back!" she taunted.

He sighed in exasperation and turned around to rummage in his few belongings. "No problem, Chiana. I've got another one and while I would prefer taking Winona, I'm still going down to the planet. You and I have talked about this. We have a saying on Earth, `A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.' I think that pretty much covers it."

"Not to me," Chiana frowned. "I think that is the stupidest saying I've ever heard. Makes me want to keep you here all the more - you're not smart enough to beat Scorpius."

Crichton turned and gave her his complete attention. "You could be right, Chiana, but I still have to try. Look, I know you think I'm crazy to do this, and I guess D'Argo and Jool think so too, and I really don't care what Rygel thinks, but this is just something I have to do. And even if Crais and Aeryn hadn't volunteered to come with me, I'd still do it. I have to."

"So you won't change your mind?" Chiana asked him.

"Nope." He softened the word with a smile, and then turned back to get a spare clip for his pulse pistol.

"Then I guess it's up to me to stop you." With that comment she aimed his pulse pistol at his backside.

He had just enough time to turn around at the familiar whine, before she shot him in the left leg, just above his kneecap. Chiana watched in horror as he collapsed to the floor, a look of agony on his face, holding his leg and then yelling at her, "Damn it, Chiana, what the hell did you do that for? Damn it, that hurts!" he cried as he attempted to hold his leg and comm D'Argo at the same time. Blood spurted from between his fingers as he tried to put pressure on his wound. He realized he was losing feeling in his leg and he didn't have the strength to stop his own bleeding.

"Chiana, get over here and put pressure on this or I'm going to bleed to death and it's going to be your fault!" he ordered, then turned to yell into his comm, "D'Argo, I'm in my quarters and I've been shot. I need you to get me to the infirmary!"

D'Argo's crisp response came back, "Crichton, what the hezmana are you talking about? How did you get shot?"

"Look, D'Argo, just get here, I'll explain later." Crichton turned to Chiana, "Press harder, Chi, or I'm gonna lose too much blood. Press as hard as you can, right on the wound," he grunted from the pain even as he said this.

Chiana was quickly regretting her whole plan. Considering she had made it up on the spot, this wasn't a surprise. She could tell Crichton was in a lot of pain, and she knew she would be in deep dren as soon as the others came and he told them what she had done. She had no sooner had that thought then D'Argo ran into the cell and gave her a look of suspicion as he quickly knelt to lift Crichton in his arms as he would lift a child.

"Keep applying pressure, Chi, all the way to the infirmary, or I won't make it there," Crichton managed to tell her before the room tilted away from him and things went black.

  
* * *

  
  


"I can't believe you just shot him," Jool complained as she worked on Crichton's leg. He was unconscious and stripped down to his undershorts and tank top as he lay on the examining table. Jool had managed to stop the bleeding and was efficiently working to repair his artery and seal the wound - but that didn't stop her from feeling pretty angry at Chiana.

"I didn't just shoot him," Chiana yelled at her, "I tried to reason with him first, but he wouldn't listen."

Jool glanced meaningfully at Crichton's unconscious form, and then replied, "Yeah, well he's definitely not going to listen now! What were you thinking? He's a human, Chiana, you can't just shoot him and expect him to survive. He's deficient. It's amazing he's survived as long as he has with all his physical deficits. Don't ever do this again, and I am not kidding," she hissed at Chiana.

"Yeah, well, I didn't see you coming up with a better idea, and don't tell me you want him to track down Scorpius. I know you feel the same way about this whole plan of his," Chiana shot back at Jool.

"Yeah, I do, but I'm not going to try to kill him to stop him from getting killed. You do see the inherent flaw in that approach, don't you?" Jool asked sarcastically. D'Argo had had enough of this conversation. "You both need to stop arguing and just take care of Crichton. Aeryn and Crais have already gone down to the commerce planet - they'll get the information Crichton needs and come back in a few arns. In the meantime, I would rather listen to two rifgens mating then hear any more from you two."

Jool and Chiana glared at each other but managed not to say anything more. Jool was about to wrap Crichton's wound when Pilot's worried voice informed them that a Scarren dreadnaught had just entered the system and was nearing the planet. Crichton groaned and opened his eyes, just as Pilot displayed the visual of the dreadnaught. "Hell, that's big. Do you think it's a coincidence, or are they after Talyn?" he asked.

"I don't know," replied D'Argo. "Pilot, inform Crais and Aeryn that we are starbursting out of here. Tell them to get aboard Talyn and we'll meet up later as planned," D'Argo ordered. Pilot assented, and D'Argo and Jool reached out to hold Crichton on the exam table as Moya began her familiar defense procedure.

  
* * *

  
  


After two solar days of bed rest, Crichton was about to climb the walls. Chiana was at his beck and call the entire time - she had told him she would make up for shooting him, but he decided to forego calling her and hobble down to get his own breakfast. D'Argo had fashioned him a cane that he now reached for. Chiana's timing couldn't have been worse - they were due planet side in just a few days, and he really hadn't planned on hobbling around while they tried to purchase weapons.

The crew had figured if they split up they could get twice as much accomplished, but they hadn't counted on doing that quite so soon. The dreadnaught had definitely changed their plans. The information Crichton had about their current destination, Desnia, was that they could find some high-tech weapons there that they would find nowhere else. That sounded intriguing. He definitely wanted some weapons that would give them an unexpected edge. Now he reckoned he would not be able to pull off much of an intimidating image - definitely not with a cane and a limp. He briefly entertained the idea of letting D'Argo go down without him, but he wasn't sure what kind of weapons he wanted - and he knew he would have to rely on his gut instincts to make his choices. And this was, after all, his mission. D'Argo had already declined to join him, so he didn't feel that he could just assign this task to him, all things considered. As he made his way to Moya's mess, he fretted once again about Aeryn being alone with Crais aboard Talyn.

He admitted to himself that more than anything else he was angry with Chiana for causing him to be apart from Aeryn. Again. At least, before, he had known he could count on his twin to watch over her. And that had gone to hezmana in a handbasket. He didn't want to be reminded of his twin's death. He quickly grabbed some food cubes and sat down.

Rygel was looking at him from across the table. No doubt his royal highness would finish eating whatever Crichton left behind. Rygel knew the human well enough to know he would be off his feed. He looked down at his plate and decided to force himself to eat every food cube - not only because he ought to keep his strength up, but also for the added bonus of disappointing the little green eating machine. He smiled - Rygel could always be counted on to have a ravenous appetite. In that, at least, he was completely reliable.

Chiana walked in just as he had that thought. "I could have brought those to you, Crichton," she scolded.

He looked up and smiled at her, "Not this time, Chi, I'm back to doing for myself. Thanks, though, you've been a real help to me these last few days."

Chiana grinned at him as she sat down to eat. "No visions this time, right?" Crichton teased her.

"Hey, I really did see you get killed, okay?" she frowned at him.

"Yeah, let's talk about that a little," he told her seriously. "How did you see me die?" She looked up at him, and then down at her plate again.

"I saw you get shot," she muttered.

"Yeah? Well, I don't suppose you noticed, but I did get shot," he looked at her meaningfully.

"Yeah, I know. I figured that part out," she fidgeted with her food, and then looked up at him. "I didn't see anything else but you being shot - so obviously it happened on Moya and I just didn't realize. I was trying to keep you safe," she finished with some heat.

"Well, I appreciate that, Chiana, but your track record isn't that great so far. From now on, maybe you just need to let us know exactly what you see, and we'll try to make our own decisions based on your information. I'm beginning to wonder, though, if we can change anything. Every time you have a vision it happens, one way or another." They both looked at each other as they pondered that line of thought.

"All right," she agreed, "Next time I see anything I'll try to talk to everyone about it. But that'll work only if there's time - and I have no idea after I have these visions when they're gonna become reality."

"Well, I figure that's the best we can do, Chi. We live with danger on and off Moya, and if your visions give us an edge, that's great, and if they don't, well, then we have to live with that too." She nodded at him and went back to her food, feeling a little better now that they had finally talked about it. She could tell Crichton wasn't angry with her any more - that definitely made her feel better. Jool and D'Argo had gone around for the last three solar days giving her looks - as though they thought she had gone completely fahrbot. It wasn't her fault she had this ability - she certainly didn't ask for it, and she was still trying to figure it out. She found herself secretly hoping that at some point she would save one of their lives - maybe all of them - and that would show them that she really did know what she was doing.


	2. There are weapons on your world?

  
  


Chapter 2.  
"These are weapons on your world?"

  


Crichton landed Moya's pod and realized that this planet seemed familiar. As he and D'Argo exited it hit him - yeah, he had seen this planet before. But not in the Uncharted Territories - just a Star Wars flashback. Dusty, sunny, lots of sand, bone dry. Lots of aliens in long brown robes tied with cords - oh yeah, Tatooine for sure. They headed for a large stone gate along with a crowd of others going in the same direction. Before they could go through the gate, though, they were required to turn in their weapons - which was ironic since they had come there to buy weapons.

Crichton shrugged at the incongruity. He and D'Argo watched as each person went through the gate. They stopped and placed their left hands on what appeared to be a glass globe and made some sort of statement and then moved on. The gatekeeper - who, along with most of the other Desnians, looked Sebacean - explained to them that they had to state that they intended no harm to anyone on Desnia, before they would be allowed into the "inner" city - whatever that meant. Crichton had no problem with that - as far as he was concerned they were here to get the weapons and head right back to Moya. In fact, the quicker the better. He was already feeling some twinges from his knee. He mentioned that they were looking for a Dom Vidger, and the gatekeeper looked at him oddly. Crichton glanced at D'Argo, wondering if they already had a problem. They were told the Dom could be found in the palace of the inner city, which was on a hill and "couldn't be missed." Crichton wondered how many times that phrase was used in giving directions - and turned out to be wrong - as he stepped just behind D'Argo and into the arch of the gate.

D'Argo dutifully said his lines and walked through without a hitch. Crichton placed his hand on the globe and began his statement, planning to match word for word what he had been told to say, but the globe began to turn bright blue under his hand, and as he stared at it in wonder, he realized that his hand seemed to be stuck to the damn thing. He quickly finished his statement and tried to pull his hand back but found to his horror that he was not able to move so much as a finger. He then noticed that the stone around him seemed to be glowing red, and he looked up and saw that the red light was streaming from the top of the arch and shooting into the sky above, moving in strobe-light fashion.

"D'Argo!" he called out urgently as the Luxan was striding away, obviously unaware that his companion was having difficulties. D'Argo turned around, and the pained expression on his face would have been comical if not for the surge of panic Crichton was trying vainly to suppress. _It should be easy. It's never easy._ A crowd was beginning to gather - some people pointing at him, some pointing at the gate, all eyes definitely turned in his direction. So much for the low profile. Of course, the cane would have made that an impossibility, he admitted to himself, but still, this was ridiculous.

D'Argo was back at his side in several strides, impatiently pulling on Crichton's hand before he had a chance to tell him it was royally stuck, thank you very much. "Well, what did you do wrong?" D'Argo growled at him.

"Nothing, D'Argo, I said just what you said, but it doesn't matter anyway because things started going wacko the second I put my hand on the globe. It's not my fault!" he finished lamely.

They both stood looking at each other for a moment, and then Crichton noticed that the crowd had began parting to let through a group of men who appeared to be officials of some kind. They wore uniforms of white with gold sashes and buttons, and judging by their ramrod straight backs, Crichton thought them to be what passed for the local military. But then they did something so unexpected that his jaw dropped. He turned his head in time to see the same reaction from D'Argo, who had also turned and was now facing the crowd. Every man dropped down to his knees facing the gate, and then the crowd quickly did the same. The usual cacophony of crowd noises was quickly replaced by a hush that was astounding in its completeness.

One man then rose and approached Crichton and D'Argo stepped back, though not, Crichton realized, farther than an arm's reach away. The man who had approached them first bent over and did something to the base of the globe, and the lights stopped flashing, although the globe itself remained blue. Then he touched the globe and Crichton realized he could pull his hand away, which he quickly did.

The man turned to him and in a formal tone spoke what seemed to be a memorized speech: "We, the people of the inner city of Islit, are most humbly honored by your gracious visit to our world, and desire that you stay with us for a time, and partake of our offerings, and meet our great leader who desires to welcome you and provide you with all that you require." He bowed low, and then smiled at Crichton and turned to sweep his hand towards the delegation behind him. Crichton was unsure what to say in response.

"Uh, thank you, I am most happy to be here to visit your inner city, and I would be pleased to meet your leader and, uh, visit with your people." Crichton slightly bowed his head, then glanced at D'Argo, who quickly moved forward with him towards the group waiting ahead. As they walked, they noticed that a hover vehicle was approaching and the soldiers made it clear that Crichton and D'Argo were expected to climb in. Crichton felt an immediate sense of relief - he hadn't been sure his knee would hold up for any length of time.

The palace looked to be a good two miles in the distance, but he didn't suppose hobbling along with his cane would have added to the sense of dignity he felt was required in the circumstances. D'Argo discretely helped him into the vehicle and then climbed in himself. Two of the soldiers got in, facing them in the backseat, while two more soldiers, including the man who had greeted Crichton, got into the front of the vehicle and turned back to the palace. Crichton assumed the remaining soldiers were posted nearby, as they made no move to head to the palace, but quickly motioned for the crowd to disperse, acting like traffic cops would back home.

"Move along, move along, thank you, that's right, keep going..." he listened as the car started towards the palace. It was somehow vaguely reassuring to know that even across the universe there were similarities in behavior that he could recognize and cling to with some familiarity. He wondered if they even did the good cop bad cop routine and smiled to himself imagining it.

Crichton and D'Argo looked about in wonder as their hover car progressed through the city. Although outside the gate there had been little in the way of buildings and commerce, the "inner" city was bustling - a remarkable contrast existed between the outer and inner city on this planet. The buildings appeared to be quite tall, though they had noticed nothing above the skyline of the gate. The palace, which they were fast approaching, was impressive. It rose from the ground like a crystal shard, and had it been green Crichton would have felt its resemblance to the Emerald City uncanny. He imagined Scorpius as the wicked witch - definitely easier to kill. His mental image of a melting Scorpius brought a smile to his face, and D'Argo leaned over and asked him what he found so amusing about their situation.

"It'd take too long to explain," he whispered back, "but just picture Scorpy in drag."

As usual, D'Argo gave him an uncomprehending look at his use of Earth slang. As they approached the palace Crichton was chagrined to find what appeared to be an honor guard lined up along the steps at the entrance. It was obvious that the blue globe thing had some great significance to these people, but he had no idea what could possibly be going on, or what was expected of him. He hoped someone would be coming along with his script any moment now. Or maybe a nice tour guide.

He began to wonder how they were going to bring up their actual purpose for being here when it was clear the people on this planet had some kind of expectations from him that he was clueless about. _So sorry, we were just passing through, thought we'd pick up several of your high-tech weapons, and then we'll be on our merry way_ - no, somehow he didn't think that was going to work.

It occurred to him that his informant may have led them astray - this did not look like the kind of planet that had a black market for weapons sales or any seedy little back rooms for that matter, and since finding out that their contact person lived in a palace, he wondered if they had been taken for a couple of rubes. They had certainly paid well for the information, but in the Uncharted Territories he knew that didn't mean a whole lot. He was already mentally working on getting weapons via Plan B when he dismounted from the hover car and headed for the palace entrance, not exactly sure if he should wave to the crowd that had begun to gather behind the soldiers lining the walkway. To say that he felt awkward would have been an understatement. The last time he had felt such a great sense of unreality had been on the Royal Planet where he had been called "Your Highness" way too many times. The comparison worried him. His time spent on the Royal Planet had been fraught with one life-threatening situation after another.

As he entered the palace he found himself gazing at what looked very much like a cathedral back home - some things never changed. What was different was that everything was more rounded and smooth, as though sharp angles were avoided with calculated care. And his mind boggled at the effort it must have taken to shape this palace, if it really was formed from a solid crystal as it appeared to be. The color scheme of the palace was blue and red, which made him wonder if those particular colors had some significance on this planet. He put his thoughts aside as his entourage approached a man who stood waiting at the far end of what he dubbed the "throne room," although there was no actual throne.

"I presume you are John Crichton," he said, and Crichton's puzzled look made him add, "I am Dom Vidger, the leader of this world and its inner city, and we are most honored to welcome you to our inner city. I will explain later why I know your name." D'Argo and Crichton exchanged astonished looks. Their contact was the leader of this world?

The Dom then turned to D'Argo and greeted him by name, which left them both confused and uncomfortable as they glanced at each other again. Had their informant given the Dom their names? If so, perhaps these people already knew they were here to purchase weapons. Crichton felt a little more confidence at this thought, and was just about to bring up the subject when Vidger smiled at him and said "Not yet." Before Crichton could ask what he meant by that, he had turned and invited them to follow him into a small anteroom off to the left side of where Crichton felt the "throne" should be, and they came into what was clearly a bathing area starkly white and glistening in a white marble finish.

They were introduced to a servant by the name of Yossur, and were told he would take care of their needs, and the Dom then left them to Yossur's services. "You will need to be bathed and purified before entering the inner sanctum," their new host informed Crichton, then turned to D'Argo and asked him to step outside where he would be taken for refreshment.

Crichton's instincts went on alert. "I don't want to be separated from my companion," he began, but was firmly told that D'Argo could not enter the inner sanctum and no harm would come to him while he waited. He could tell D'Argo was not happy with this turn of events, and he quickly asked to speak with him privately.

Yossur bowed and walked over to a side door and discretely removed himself from the room.

"Listen, I have no idea what is going on, D'Argo, but one thing is clear - they have some plans for me, and we don't really have any choice but to go along with it. Neither of us is armed, and we don't know what's happening, so we're going to have to play along with them until we figure out what's going on, okay?" he pleaded, knowing that D'Argo was still not happy.

"I will not be parted from you for long," he said darkly. "This place does not look as though weapons sales are done routinely. Was our informant a madman?" he questioned Crichton.

"I don't know any more about this than you do, D'Argo. I have a feeling something more is going on here and we just need to stay alert." He thought about mentioning that the Dom seemed to be able to read minds too, and then decided against it. D'Argo was looking uneasy enough already, and Crichton wasn't sure if the Dom's "Not yet" comment had just been a coincidence.

"For now, D'Argo, let's just follow their lead. You go get something to eat, and I'll get a bath - actually, you know, I would rather be getting something to eat myself - I haven't had anything since we left Moya," he interrupted himself, and D'Argo gave him a satisfied look.

"Yeah, the perks of being out of the limelight - go ahead and get something to eat, and I'll catch up with you later," he patted D'Argo's arm reassuringly, and the Luxan opened the door back into the "throne" room where he found a servant waiting to escort him.

Crichton watched him leave and then turned back just in time to see Yossur re-enter the room with what appeared to be towels and a white robe. _Great. So much for keeping my own clothes._ Yossur began helping him undress, and he found himself wondering why he needed to be purified, and what the blue light at the gate's entrance had signified. He wanted to ask Yossur, but wasn't sure if that would be "kosher," for lack of a better word. He decided to just relax and try to enjoy the bath and the services of his temporary butler and just let things unfold.

Yossur sucked in his breath as he unwrapped the bandages around Crichton's knee. Although it was healing nicely, it was still an angry red and very sore looking. Also sore feeling, he mentally added. As he eased into the bath he was surprised to find the water very warm. Way too warm for Sebaceans, but perfect for a hot tub back home. He started to ask Yossur why he was being given the royal treatment, but paused. He had a gut feeling that the servants would not be comfortable answering his questions.

As he formed that thought, he saw Yossur nod his head, as though agreeing with him.

_Okay, that was weird._ He made a note to ask the Dom about mind reading - was it just his imagination or did people on this planet have that ability? His next thought was a little more alarming - if they could mind read, had they been reading his thoughts all along? And if so, had he been thinking anything that would get him in trouble? Or, more importantly, give away his mission? And how did these people feel about Peacekeepers? His experience in the Uncharteds had led him to believe that most planets were definitely not fond of the Peacekeepers, but then he had learned the hard way that you couldn't take anything for granted. Their informant had told them they weren't likely to come across any Peacekeepers in this area, but he suddenly realized that didn't really answer the question of how they felt about Peacekeepers. And even if he guarded his thoughts from this moment on, what about D'Argo? He had let him go without so much as a warning, and now he couldn't do much about that. He gazed over at his pile of clothes, and the now out of reach comm badge. _Brilliant_. And if Yossur could read minds he was already aware of his dilemma.

He decided to ask that his comm badge be given to him before leaving the area, but he didn't really put much faith in it happening. Sure enough, after he had been washed and clothed only in the white robe he was told the comm badge must remain behind, as it could not be purified. The servant dipped his cane in the bath water and carefully dried it off before handing it back to Crichton. He was then led out of the bathing area and into another room that did, in fact, have what looked like a throne, and a red carpet leading to it. He made another mental note to ask about the red and blue colors as soon as he got the chance.

As he walked down the carpet he briefly looked back to see Yossur closing the door behind him, and it was then that he noticed each step he had taken on the carpet was leaving a blue footprint. He looked down and watched as he lifted his foot, and saw the color of the carpet change. He wondered what the point of that could be. The planet's leader entered the room from a side door, and came over to stand in front of the "throne," waiting for Crichton. As soon as he reached him, the Dom leaned forward and told him that his footprints would be saved and given out to the faithful who made pilgrimages to the inner city. Crichton found himself wondering again, _Are my thoughts being read or are these just more coincidences?_ He then did a mental double take. _Pilgrimages? What the hell was that about?_

The Dom leaned towards him once again and whispered in his ear, "Your questions will be answered soon," and turned to lead him over to what appeared to be an altar made of stone, but covered with soft padded fabric in a rich red that reminded Crichton of velvet. The Dom motioned for Crichton to kneel at the altar and went around the other side and knelt so that they were facing each other. The Dom then told him to put his left hand on the altar, and Crichton suddenly remembered it had been his left hand that was on the globe at the gate. He wondered if this world was inhabited by lefthanders.

"Spread your fingers apart, like so," the Dom told him, and he complied, hoping he wasn't getting married in some bizarre alien ceremony. The Dom smiled, seemingly in humorous response to Crichton's thought, but quickly schooled his facial features back to a solemn comportment.

"As fulfillment of the ancient prophecy, you are the sole recipient and rightful heir to the gift and blessings of the containment ring," he intoned, and Crichton realized the Dom was placing a ring on his ring finger. On his left hand. He again thought of the marriage ceremony and was about to ask if the ring could be placed on a different finger when he realized the ring was tightening. He could not understand what he was experiencing, but the ring seemed to come alive, digging into his finger until it actually felt uncomfortable, in fact, yes, it was getting really painful.

He was about to mention it to the Dom when the feeling eased somewhat and he started to relax a bit. Then the Dom spoke again, "This ring is now bonded to you and cannot be removed. It will help and protect you as needed and will be a great blessing in your life."

Crichton stared at him and quickly retracted his hand and tried to pull off the ring, but it didn't budge. He looked at the Dom and found that he had risen, so Crichton stood up from the altar, still trying surreptitiously to remove the ring, and, as the Dom motioned him to follow, walked around the altar and moved to an area in a corner that he had not noticed before. There appeared to be a basin filled with water and made of the same stone as the altar he had just knelt at. He wondered if this was to be another purification ceremony, and he paused before being led by the Dom to stand in front of the basin.

Again, the Dom leaned towards him and whispered in his ear, "This will be uncomfortable," and he was grabbed from behind by strong arms that swept him forward to the basin, and as he gasped out loud, his head was pushed deep into the basin's water. His cane clattered to the floor, unnoticed in the struggle. He resisted violently at first, but realized quickly that struggling was using up the little bit of air he had taken in from his surprise, and he quieted down, hoping that they did not expect him to be able to stay under the water for very long. When he opened his eyes he could see the bottom of the basin and an opening in its smooth surface. Just as he was beginning to wonder why the water didn't drain out of this opening, he watched in horror as a wormlike creature emerged through the hole and began to swim towards him. _Another critter_, he thought morbidly.

He didn't have any remaining strength to struggle, but his heart raced and he began to panic as the creature swam up to him and then moved off to the left side of his head. Then he felt it enter his ear, and he totally lost it. He began furiously shaking his head and two hands were placed firmly on either side of it, promptly preventing that. He blindly panicked, jerking his head back and trying to kick at them, but the hands holding his head down did not relent and he felt himself weakening from the lack of oxygen and his own struggles. He realized in stunned shock that the worm was continuing to wiggle its way into his ear, and he could actually feel it moving inside his head, and there was _nothing_ he could do about it! He was starting to see black dots before his eyes, and was sure he was about to pass out, when he was finally pulled back from the basin. He collapsed to his knees and gasped, painfully drawing in rasping breaths of air as he dripped on the red carpeting, held up by the strong arms that had previously held him down in the water. He realized too that his struggles had hurt his knee again, and it was throbbing in pain. But that was now the least of his worries.

His vision cleared, and he found himself wondering if the wormlike critter would find the wormhole information in his mind. He weakly giggled at his own joke. He was pulled to his feet and handed his cane, and he swayed a bit from lightheadedness. He looked up to find the Dom staring at him. Crichton's first reaction was to lash out at him, and then he realized the Dom was talking to him. Only not talking to him. He could hear the Dom's voice in his mind, but the Dom's mouth wasn't moving. He had to concentrate to understand the words in his head. _What the frell have they done to me?_ Oh, yeah, he was definitely hearing the Dom's voice.

_Do not be afraid, you will get used to this. The worm is our gift to you. You will come to understand that this is a blessing._

_Whoa. Weird. Very weird. No way is a critter a blessing in my life,_ Crichton found himself thinking. And then, the Dom's response, _Yes, it is, and you will come to understand this._ Crichton had had enough. "All right, fine, you put this thing in my ear, but I am getting it out the first medical center we come to," he spat out at the Dom. "I am not, no way, _no way_, going to let this thing stay in my head. No way!" he shook with anger as he spoke, and then he realized the Dom was speaking in his mind again. _The worm has also bonded with you and cannot be removed. I am sorry. We thought this was what you wanted._ Crichton stared at him.

"What I wanted? I never even told you what I wanted," he shouted at the Dom. "I never even _thought_ of wanting anything like this," he added as he belatedly realized on this planet you didn't have to ask out loud.

The Dom stared at him for a few moments and then said out loud, "You came to this planet seeking unique weapons, did you not?" It was Crichton's turn to stare for a few moments while he digested this comment.

"Yes, I did, but this ring, and this worm... are you saying these are _weapons_ on your world?" he asked with foreboding.

The Dom's reply was terse, "Yes."

Crichton closed his eyes and brought his hands to cover his face for a moment as he strove to hang on to a semblance of rational thought. He looked up finally, and haltingly told the Dom, "Fine... okay. Obviously there has been a _huge_ misunderstanding, and I can see how it happened. But are you seriously telling me I can't get this worm out of my head?" his volume rose as he neared the end of his question.

The Dom looked on him with what Crichton thought was pity, and told him what he feared to hear most, "No. I am sorry. What is done is done."

Crichton hung his head down at the words, then slowly looked up and, with defeat in his voice, told the Dom, "All right then, you'd better explain to me how these weapons work."

The Dom smiled at him and put his hands on his shoulders and said, "You will see. These are gifts and blessings in your life. You will see," and then he motioned Crichton to follow. A servant stood off to one side and handed him a towel, which he used to wipe his face and hair, being careful not to touch his left ear, which had begun to throb with pain, and then he moved on behind the Dom to yet another room in what Crichton grimly began to think of as the Palace of Horrors.

D'Argo had finished his refreshment and was anxiously pacing as Crichton entered with the Dom. D'Argo's initial joy at seeing his companion changed to concern as he looked at his friend's face. "Are you all right?" Crichton tried to smile reassuringly, but knew he hadn't pulled it off when the Luxan's face immediately looked more concerned.

"What have they done to you?" he demanded. He shot an angry look at the Dom, and Crichton quickly intervened before his friend's hyper-rage kicked in with a vengeance.

"It's not like that, D'Argo. There was a misunderstanding, and I'm working on it, okay? I'm going to be busy with the Dom for a while. Are you going to be okay here?" He searched D'Argo's face and realized D'Argo wasn't going to be okay. Anything but okay, in fact.

"Crichton, we agreed we would get the weapons and we would get out of here. If they don't have what we need, then it is time to leave," he stated in a tone that brooked no argument. Crichton took the Luxan's arm and pulled him aside.

"Look, I did get the weapons, I just don't have any idea how to operate them, and the Dom's going to show me, okay?" At the look on the Luxan's face, he quickly added, "And I know this is gonna sound weird, but it's kinda personal. The damn things have bonded with me, so I'm the only one that can use them. If I leave here without knowing how to use them, this whole trip will be useless."

"What do you mean by `bonded?'" D'Argo growled ominously.

"I mean they are in me, on me, they're not going anywhere. I can't get them off, take them out, whatever. I'm stuck on them and they're stuck on me. Got it?" he asked sardonically.

"This is insane," D'Argo hissed back at him.

"Tell me about it," Crichton responded. "But what else is new? Does anything ever go the way we think it will?" He paused long enough to make sure D'Argo had calmed down, then turned to the Dom. "Okay, I'm ready for Bonded Weapons 101," and with one last look at D'Argo, he left the room. He paused in the doorway long enough to wave his cane at D'Argo and told him, "This is, by the way, a lifesaver. Thanks for making it for me."

D'Argo watched as the door closed, then began pacing again. He reached for his comm and checked in with the crew on Moya. Chiana responded to his gruff, "This is D'Argo, who's on command duty?"

Chiana answered him, "It's me, D'Argo, we've been worried about you two. Do you realize it's been four arns since you left here? What the hezmana has been going on down there?"

"Well, for one thing, Crichton has managed to get us into a mess again-" before he could finish she interrupted with a sarcastic "No, really?" and D'Argo continued, "And apparently the weapons here are more complicated than we were expecting, so we're going to be here for who knows how long while someone teaches Crichton how to operate them. Oh, and by the way, did I mention the weapons are attached to him?"

"You're kidding, right?" Chiana asked in astonishment.

"I wish I were. Just try to be patient. I'll contact you again when I know anything more." D'Argo cut the connection and promptly resumed pacing.

  
* * *

  
  


This time Crichton and the Dom entered a room that actually had chairs and, glory be, food! Crichton perked up immediately at the sight. The Dom indicated where he was to sit, and a servant came in and began serving a repast fit for a king. Crichton decided, once the servant had left again, that it was time to get some answers.

"Okay, I have a long list of questions, and I think we should start at the beginning. Why me?" he asked pointedly.

The Dom looked up at him and calmly informed him, "You are the prophesied savior of the Uncharted Territories."

Crichton promptly dropped his eating utensils, and gaped at the Dom, "...okay," he stuttered, "what prophecy are we talking about here?" he managed to rasp out through a suddenly constricted throat.

"Approximately three centuries ago a leader of our world, one in a long line of Doms, of which I am a direct descendant, had visions of the future which led him to believe that our world would be in dire peril from wars that threatened the very existence of our race. He foretold your coming to our world seeking weapons. We have kept his written word safe in the catacombs below this palace," he paused as Crichton mentally interrupted him - _naturally the Palace of Horrors has catacombs_ - and then continued, "and you are welcome to examine these scrolls. In fact, the scrolls indicate that you do examine them, so this would be entirely fitting. By the way, I apologize for making you feel that my home has been a horror to you."

Crichton had the grace to look embarrassed, but the Dom waved his hand dismissively and told him, "I understand. I should explain to you that the scrolls also indicated that you would not willingly accept our gifts, but they are necessary for you to complete your mission." Crichton looked up in surprise.

"You know about my mission?"

"Oh yes, and many things that you are not even aware of, which will take place in your future. The scrolls are very explicit on these matters, and, as I said, you are welcome to examine them."

Crichton thought about that for a moment. "I'm not sure I want to know-" he started, but the Dom quickly added, "Of course, there are parts of the scroll that we cannot reveal to you at this time. Your final trip here will be more lengthy, and you will have accomplished your mission by then, and of course there will be the celebration-" before he could continue Crichton laid his utensils down and told him, "Let's go look at these scrolls. I think I need to see them now, if you don't mind."

The Dom smiled at him and said, "Of course, we can go as soon as you finish eating. However, I suggest we stop first and speak with your friend before we leave. It is my understanding that he already grows worried for you again."

Crichton was not at all surprised to hear this. "Is it possible for him to accompany us to the scrolls?"

_No, the scrolls do not indicate that he does accompany you, and that must be our guide. Many of the things you will learn you will discuss with me, and ask many questions, and your friend should not overhear this. There is a great risk in others knowing of the gifts you have been given. You must be very vague when questioned about them. If others knew, for example, that you are able to read their minds, your life would be in great danger._

Crichton stared at him, too stupefied to respond. It suddenly occurred to him that the Dom had not spoken those words to him out loud, and he flashed back to the conversation in his head immediately after the worm had entered his brain. "Okay, what are you telling me here?" he asked with no small amount of trepidation.

_This is the gift of the warton, or what you have been calling the worm. He is able to listen to the thoughts of others and sort them for you according to what you must know and what may safely remain private. You will not hear every thought of those around you. This would be too distracting, and possibly harmful to your relationships,_ the Dom responded.

Crichton briefly thought, _You don't say,_ and the Dom picked up that thought and smiled at him before continuing.

_On the other hand, a little judicious mind reading can do wonders for your love life. Imagine, if you will, being able to please your partner by doing exactly what she wants you to do?_ He paused long enough for Crichton to digest this, and laughed out loud at the look on his face when he had. The possibilities were just beginning to occur to him.

_And, of course, knowing the thoughts of your enemies...,_ he did not need finish that thought. It was obvious to both of them the import of that ability. _That is why I say that the warton is essential to the success of your mission,_ he continued after a moment. _By the way, I have been referring to the warton as a male, but you should know that before he bonded with you the warton was neither male nor female, and only sexually orients itself after entering a host. Your relationship with the warton is what you would call symbiotic. He benefits by having access to nourishment from your body and the rich source of entertainment available to him through you thoughts, actions, and dreams, and you benefit as we have already mentioned. The warton is undetectable by scanner or any other means. He takes on the look of his surroundings so he will actually become a part of your brain matter. If you are tortured, he will act as a lockbox, protecting any information you do not want revealed. He also will protect your brain from certain drugs that may be used to force your compliance._

Now _that_ was a good gift. It occurred to Crichton at this point that he had a dilemma. Should he mention Harvey or keep that to himself?

The Dom responded to his thought, _I am actually aware of your neural clone you refer to as Harvey. I assume you will also choose a name for the warton?_

Crichton felt momentarily stupid. Of course the Dom had already picked the thought out of his mind. _I'll call him Mike,_ he thought at the Dom. _A mike is a device in my world that amplifies a person's voice so they can be heard in a large room or crowd of people even though they are talking at normal levels. It just seems to fit._

_Well, Mike and Harvey will work out a relationship that will ultimately benefit all of you. Your Harvey is very interested in your survival, as it also signifies his survival, and he will no doubt take action to facilitate Mike's introduction to your mind and patterns of thought that will enable him to settle in sooner than would be customary._

The Dom had no idea how much the thought of that terrified Crichton. Harvey taking Mike under his wing, so to speak. _Not good._ He made a mental note to give Harvey a serious lecture about corrupting the young and - so far - innocent warton. 

Another thought occurred to him, "Dom, how many people have wartons?" he wondered out loud.

"Ah, well they are not given at random. Their bonding is actually quite rare. All those who reside in the palace have them, and a handful of those who hold important positions in the inner city, including the man who turned off the gate alarm for you, Loram. The warton is very particular when choosing a host, and doesn't need a host to survive. A person who is selfish, lazy, vicious, or has any other major vices, for instance, would never be able to achieve a bonding. Even being bad-tempered would disqualify a host." Crichton quickly regretted his brief thought, _and that lets D'Argo off,_ and the Dom, this time, made no indication that he was aware of this thought, as perhaps he wasn't. His own warton would no doubt be free to choose what his host was made aware of, and Crichton certainly hoped his every little thought was not an open book to the Dom.

He found himself wondering what thoughts the warton would choose to keep from him and what process he would use to judge by. The Dom mentally responded to his thought, _The warton actually will learn from you what is necessary and what is not. This is a growth process for both of you. Well, actually all three of you if you count Harvey,_ he added, and Crichton involuntarily grimaced - how nice it would be to not have to include the neural clone, but if wishes were chickens, et cetera, et cetera, he mused. He then realized there was one more thing he needed to know, especially if he wanted to maintain good relations with his shipmates on Moya.

_How can I tell the difference between a person's thought and their spoken words? I mean, you and the others seem to have control of that, but I have no idea how you are doing it._

The Dom looked around the room they were in, which was decorated in the customary reds and blues like rest of the Palace, or at least every room Crichton had seen thus far. _When I am speaking to you mentally you will see blue in your mind's eye, and,_ he continued, "When I speak to you out loud the color red subtly replaces the blue."

Crichton realized the significance of the color scheme of the palace - you definitely would want a constant reminder that those two colors were important inside a palace where everyone was privy to your thoughts and spoken words, depending on the various judgments made by each host's warton. He, on the other hand, would have no such reminders on Moya, and would have to work on making a habit of checking his mental colors before responding to his shipmates. He foresaw a learning curve ahead for him that could prove interesting, and possiblE embarrassing for himself and others. That led to the thought, _Why do these things always happen to me?_ He then remembered that they had not yet seen the scrolls, nor had they discussed his other "weapon" - the containment ring.

"I suggest we go and visit your companion first," the Dom politely stated, and rose to leave the table. "He really is becoming more impatient by the microt, and I am not sure if the palace servants can handle this for much longer." Crichton quickly rose and reached for his cane, as the Dom led him out of the dining area and into the "throneless" great hall they had first seen upon entering the palace.

The Luxan was definitely not waiting patiently. Crichton took one look at him and did the math. "Look, D'Argo, there's no reason for you to wait here for me. Why don't you take the pod back to Moya. I'll comm you or Chiana when I'm ready to head back."

"I am not leaving without you," D'Argo told him flatly.

"D'Argo, I still have a lot to do here. I am in no danger, okay? You can go - I want you to go. Trust me, all right?" He couldn't tell if D'Argo was convinced, but then D'Argo folded his arms and sat down on the nearest chair. Clearly he had no intention of leaving. Crichton sighed and turned back to the Dom. "Okay, let's go. Do we have the fast-forward version of this tour available?" He looked back at the Luxan as he left with the Dom. He really didn't think D'Argo was going to stay calm for much longer.

The Dom led him into small cylindrical room that seemed to be a type of elevator. There were no buttons or any other devices in sight indicating how to control it, but after they had both entered, Crichton's body registered the subsequent descent into the depths of the palace. He felt a little disoriented as they exited into dim corridors, lit only by a type of recessed lighting along the top edges of the passage. The Dom led him through a maze of passages that eventually led to a room whose far end contained a lighted pedestal. As he approached he saw the scroll - protected under what appeared to be glass. There were controls to unroll the scroll and move the written words on it into view - a neat trick. Then he noticed the written words were in English and was truly astounded.

"This is my language!" he told the Dom in amazement. "I can read this, how can your people have the same written language as mine?" He leaned over the glass cover and began reading some of the words. It was a very long time before he lifted his head again to look at the Dom, all questions about language forgotten. The scroll didn't just foretell general events in his future - there were very explicit details. It also told of things that had happened in his past - things that couldn't be known by anyone on this world. He was fairly sure the temperature in the room hadn't changed, but he found himself chilled to the marrow. One prophecy, in particular, shocked him above all the others mentioned. If he surrendered himself to Scorpius, he would never be the same again. Literally. As he read another section of the scroll, he found himself stunned again. He now knew why the Dom expected to see him again. Amazing. This whole experience felt surreal - some of the things he read about in the scroll weren't even humanly possible for him to do - yet he knew he could not dismiss this as some sort of alien trick. He fervently hoped that he would indeed live to return, but if the scroll was accurate the cost of his survival was going to be higher than he could ever have imagined.

The Dom led him away from the scroll, telling him that he already had read what he needed to know for his mission. Crichton asked him again why he had been able to read it, and the Dom explained that the visions had come to his ancestor, and he had written them down. No one had been able to understand the words for nearly two centuries, but after much study they had finally been able to decipher his language and only the Dom and palace workers knew how to read and write it. The Dom told him it was time now to show him the capabilities of the containment ring. He motioned for Crichton to sit down on a bench near the pedestal, and lifted his robe to examine his injury.

"Place the ring against your knee," he instructed Crichton. Crichton did as he asked and a blue light appeared around his hand and knee. He reflexively pulled the ring back, and the Dom gently took his hand again and placed it back on his knee.

"Look closely at your wound, Crichton," he told him. Crichton watched as his knee began to heal under the ministrations of the ring. It felt as though the healing process had been sped up to an incredible rate - he could actually feel intense pain from the process, and began to sweat and feel weak and exhausted, as though he had done some hard labor. He watched as his skin tissue healed, and he could feel his bones knitting and the muscles of his knee repairing themselves. It was an incredible feeling. But if this was indeed a weapon, it was a bizarre one. _What use would the ring be against an enemy?_

The Dom answered his unspoken question, "If you are injured and are able to heal yourself you can escape without your enemy being aware you are even physically capable of it. Of course you must use this judiciously - if your enemy discovers the purpose of the ring and you do not successfully escape..." he left the comment unfinished, relying on Crichton's imagination to complete the thought.

"It is, of course, possible to heal yourself by small degrees - just enough to prevent the danger of too much blood loss, or infection, without completely healing your injuries. And remember, Crichton, the ring can only heal you if you are alive to use it." As he said this, the blue light began to dim, and he told Crichton this meant that the wound was nearly healed. "Let no one else know of the ring's power. Others around you might covet this ability, possibly at the cost of your life." Crichton realized he would need to use D'Argo's cane for at least a few more days to offset any suspicions.

Crichton thought of Rygel - the little Hynerian could definitely not be trusted to keep his hands off the ring, even if he only suspected its abilities. He wasn't sure Chiana could manage it either. It was no more in their natures to keep their hands to themselves than it was in his nature to keep out of trouble. And he could see that in a small crew it would be hard to keep anything major like this secret for long. He would need to be very careful.

The Dom wasn't finished. As he showed Crichton what else the ring could do, he slowly began to believe he could defeat Scorpius.

"How does it do these things?" he asked the Dom excitedly.

"You direct the ring's power and it acts under your direction," the Dom told him. "And any examination of the ring will show it to be powerless, which it is - without your impetus."

Crichton stared at him. "Cool," he finally said, and grinned. He then asked what the containment ring actually "contained" and was stunned to silence when the Dom told him. He took a moment to examine the ring more closely. He could see nothing that indicated its powers. It was gold with a black shiny oval set in the center, handsome and solid-looking, and large. Definitely a man's ring. There was fine, ornate metalwork around the stone in the center.

"And now we must discuss your module," the Dom announced. "I will give you the schematics and the parts you will need - my servants will load them onto your pod. These modifications to your ship will require many arns of work," the Dom cautioned him. Crichton felt a surge of pure unadulterated joy. _Next to being with Aeryn, I can't think of a better way to pass the time._


	3. In the same frelling knee!

  
  


Chapter 3.  
"In the same frelling knee!"

  


The reunion with Crais and Aeryn was starting off on the wrong foot. D'Argo had done what Crichton requested - made no mention of the weapons that were now a part of him. But Aeryn wasn't happy about it.

"You mean to tell me that you went down to the planet and came back with _nothing!_" she yelled.

"No, I came back with weapons, but information about them is strictly on a need to know basis - and right now that's a short list. Me. Period." Crichton calmly informed her. "You know the drill, Aeryn. If you're captured, you can't tell what you don't know. And believe me, you can't hold anything back from the Aurora Chair." His memories of his time in that chair gave him no joy. He knew he would have told Scorpius anything he wanted if he had spent much more time in that damn chair. Fortunately, Aeryn had rescued him from the nightmarish experience.

Aeryn knew something of what he had been through. It had taken a while to recover from it - she had spent many nights checking in on him as he cried out in his sleep, tortured by nightmares that didn't end when he was safe on Moya. And he had gone through all of that because he had been determined to save her life. But that didn't mean he could now dictate what she could and couldn't know about their current mission.

"I think we need to vote on this. All three of us are putting our lives on the line."

Crichton looked at her. "Sorry, this isn't a democracy. I am heading this mission, and I have the final word. If you want to come, fine. I could use the help. But if you're going to question every decision I make, this isn't going to work."

Aeryn looked at Crais. He seemed unperturbed by the entire discussion. _Is he going to just sit there and not back me up?_

Crais caught her look, but then turned and spoke to Crichton. "Let's move on. I am more concerned with how you intend to get off the command carrier after Aeryn and I turn you over to Scorpius."

"Scorpy's pretty anxious for this wormhole information. With the threat of war with the Scarrens, he's going to really want to push up a wormhole test. And I'm going to find a way to be his test pilot. The opportunity for escape in that situation should be clear to you Crais. Obviously Scorpy will see that too. He'll try to get me under control. But it isn't going to work. And you'll just have to take my word on that - I am not going to tell you why it won't work. It relates back to the need to know basis. Either way, the mission is over for you both after you turn me in. So let's go over it again: Talyn blows up the command carrier's computer, Scorpy holds off retaliating after finding out I am on board. You and Aeryn work a deal to turn me in - after convincing Scorpy there is bad blood between us. At that point, you take off and Scorpy keeps me. I feel betrayed and agree to work with him. Trust me, that's an offer he won't refuse. I find the neurochip and destroy it, and then I get the hezmana out of there."

Aeryn frowned at him. "I can't even begin to tell you how many ways this can go wrong."

"Yeah, well, that's where Plan B comes in. If we're all captured, then I refuse to cooperate until he lets you go. Or, if he keeps you hostage, you let him know about the dreadnaught and offer him Talyn's recording of said event - and I'm the only one who knows where it is since we agreed we don't want Talyn to be any more of a target than he already is. It's our ace in the hole, guys. If anything goes seriously wrong Scorpy's going to do just about anything to get proof that the wormhole knowledge is vital to the Peacekeeper war machine. Those guys have got to be getting a little pissed with him by now - he's got nothing to show for all his effort so far. And Scorpy can't get anything out of me with torture, no matter what he tries - again, trust me on that. So he has to cave in and let you go if he wants the intel. And he will want it. Either way, you two are out of there. And I stay behind until I can get out." He looked around the table as he finished. _Okay, Mike, are they buying this?_ Mike's response was short, _No._ Crichton rose from the table, "Look, we can rehash this until we're hoarse. I've already said I'm willing to go it alone. If you have a better plan, I'm listening. If you don't, then think over what I've said and we'll discuss this some more. Right now, I'm kinda tired, and I'm going to go catch some Z's."

Aeryn stood up. "I still have the same problem with this I had before. You're keeping information from us and we have to keep taking your word for vital parts of the mission's success."

And Crais added, "And I, for one, won't consider this mission a success unless you manage to kill Scorpius."

Crichton smiled tightly at them both. "Great, one more meeting where we've managed to decide nothing. Look, there isn't going to be any foolproof plan. We've never had a plan yet that didn't go pear-shaped in the opening act. Scorpius never does what we think he'll do. But I know him better than anyone here. And I think this will work with some seat-of-the-pants fine tuning. I agree it would be icing on the cake to kill Scorpius. But if I do, then I blow my one chance to escape. I would rather live to fight another day, thank you very much. Obviously if I have to kill him, I'll do it. But it isn't part of the mission otherwise. If you guys can't live with that, then come up with something we can all agree on. Or, back out of the mission. I have no problem with that. I meant it when I said I can do this alone if I have to." He didn't wait for a response - just turned and headed back to his cell.

_Crap, this is exhausting. And we haven't even started the damn mission yet._

  
* * *

  
  


As he laid on his back gazing up at his module, he thought again, _This is gonna be so great. Nothing else about this mission is even remotely fun, but test piloting this baby - now that's gonna be a dream come true._

The Dom hadn't been kidding - Crichton had spent so much time working on his module that he had to keep reminding himself to sleep and eat - and he was ignoring those two activities all over the place. Anyone wanting to talk to him knew to come here - no one was checking on his location with Pilot any more. Still, it was a surprise when she came in. _Aeryn._ He had to make himself continue working on his ship, as though nothing monumental had just happened in his life.

"Crichton, that module isn't even coming on this mission. Why are you spending so much frelling time with it? It's pointless," she grumbled. She headed over to her Prowler - she and Crais had managed to procure one while the crew had been separated, but although she had gone over it with great care, she had always managed to avoid being in the maintenance bay when he was there. _Until now_. And since he was pretty much there all the time, except for a few stolen arns of sleep here and there, he knew she had to be deliberately avoiding him.

He finished what he had been working on, and then had an incredible thought - he'd just head out the door and leave her there by herself. _Two can play this game._ Part of him knew it was childish - _and she probably won't give a damn_, he admitted to himself - but now was as good a time as any to get something to eat and some shut-eye. And maybe, just maybe, it would make him feel a little better about himself. His ego had really taken a beating - knowing his twin had succeeded with Aeryn where he had failed. They had been lovers. Rygel had complained to him about it - they had behaved like honeymooners. _They had loved each other that much._ Not that he would trade places with his twin now. But it still hurt like hell.

He got up and carefully put away his tools, and then walked out the door of the maintenance bay. He decided to be gracious and at least tell her he was headed to get something to eat, "Gonna grab some grub. Catch ya later," he casually tossed over his shoulder as he left. He had pulled it off! It felt so cool. Just outside the door, he sat down against Moya's wall and reveled in the feeling. This was what he needed - to take control of the situation. Stop feeling like yesterday's newspaper. He was good with women - _absolutely nothing wrong with my moves - nothing wrong with me._

"Crichton!" Aeryn was standing in the hallway looking at him in surprise and irritation.

He jumped guiltily, his heart beating wildly, and quickly pulled himself up off the floor. _Oh hell, this wasn't part of the plan._

"You said you were leaving," she accused him.

"Uh, I was, Aeryn, I, uh, just was... resting...for a minute." _Yeah, resting. Great. Nothing wrong with resting. Oh God, I am so lame._

He was at a total loss for more to say. And Aeryn just stood there staring at him. Feeling like ten kinds of a fool he turned and headed down Moya's hallway. As he walked, Mike filled his mind with Aeryn's thoughts. She was watching him walk - her gaze focused on his backside. And her thoughts were definitely dirty. His cheeks burned red with embarrassment. The hallway seemed incredibly long. As soon as he was certain he was completely out of view, he leaned his forehead against the wall, pausing long enough to get back some composure. _What the hell was that about?_ Mike meekly informed him that Harvey had said he would want to know her thoughts. _Harvey. What a surprise._ Crichton suddenly wondered if Aeryn had come out into the hallway just so she could watch him walk away. _Yes,_ Mike told him. _Well, hell, that was actually kinda nice. _He smiled to himself.

He was still smiling as he entered Moya's kitchen.

While he ate, with Rygel as his only company - no surprise there - he thought about his mission. The module was as ready as he could make it. It'd be nice to test it first, but he didn't see how he could do that without his shipmates noticing. And he felt he needed to take the Dom at his word: the less he told the others, the better off he would be. One thought still niggled at the back of his mind. Would Chiana tell him now if she had a vision about his mission? Or had he made her feel she couldn't tell him anything - no matter what she might see. He pushed aside his unfinished meal and headed for Chiana's quarters, glancing back in time to see Rygel scoop up his remaining food cubes.

"Chiana, I need to talk to you," Crichton said as he entered her cell. He knew instantly that he had caught her at a bad time - for him. He didn't need Mike to tell him what was on her mind - one look and he knew.

"Whoa, bad timing, this can wait," he was already backing out into Moya's hallways as he said this, but Chiana was fast. She pulled him back in, assuring him that she had all the time in the world for him.

_That's the problem,_ he thought nervously as he stared into her dark smoldering eyes. "Chiana, I just want to know for sure - do you see anything about this mission that I need to know about?"

"No, but I figure if you're going after Scorpy, that pretty much tells the tale," she looked at him seriously for a moment, and then pulled him towards her. "So, this may be your last chance to find out what you've been missing," she purred in his ear. _Oh, yeah, you definitely walked into this one Johnny boy,_ he thought to himself as he tried gently pushing her away. Only "gently" wasn't working. And then Chiana reached down and grabbed him, and he found himself instantly remembering the Rider, and that moment when he had gone into pure sexual bliss beyond anything he had felt before. Well, possibly minus unity with Zhaan, but then he didn't remember that very well. The Rider - now _that_ he remembered.

"Bad idea, Chi," he practically moaned as he pulled away from her. "Oh come on Crichton, you know you want it," she pressed herself up against him and he finally understood how much danger he was in. She was right. He did want it. And it frightened him to realize just how desperate he was for a female's touch.

"All right, yeah, I'm interested. You know I am, but it's still a bad idea," he was talking fast now and trying to put enough force in his tone to get her attention, but she was way too focused on her own plans. He found himself being maneuvered over to her bed and he started to feel panicked. Chiana was going to get her way this time, he knew it. He didn't feel strong enough, this time, to tell her no and really mean it. Just as he had that thought, though, Mike sent him a quick mental image - Aeryn, in the hallway, right outside Chiana's cell. _Not_ there because she knew what was happening, but, like him, wanting to talk with Chiana about the same thing he had wanted to talk to her about. Only, Mike added for his benefit, Aeryn was more concerned about what was going to happen to Crichton on the mission. She didn't really care about herself or Crais. _Now that's interesting._ And, Aeryn had overheard what was going on. _Okay, not good,_ he thought morbidly. He was just starting to say the forceful "No!" he knew he needed to save the situation when his comm sprang to life with one very loud word, "_Crichton!_" Even though he knew she was there he still nearly jumped a foot. Chiana reacted nearly as badly, but recovered more quickly.

"Uh, yeah, Aeryn, I'm talking with Chiana right now. Is this urgent?" he managed to get out as he shook his head vehemently at Chiana, who had returned to the matter at hand. And with Chiana, anything within hand's reach was vulnerable. He had already danced back away from her and found himself cornered and back by the bed again. _Damn she's good_, he thought, and then she tripped him and he found himself falling onto her bed and trying vainly to get back on his feet - but Chiana was already on top of him, quick to follow up on her advantage.

Mike flashed him another thought - Aeryn had interrupted him and was now searching her mind to find something to say to him. Anything that would force him to act immediately. This was bad news because he _really_ needed her to rescue him - he was outclassed and out-maneuvered in every way, and Chiana was more than he could handle right now. _How do I get myself into these situations?_ he wondered as he finally managed to push Chiana far enough away from him, falling off the bed on the opposite side as he did so.

Aeryn's timing, this time, was perfect. "I need you to look at my prowler - something is wrong with it and I can't figure it out," Aeryn finally told him. Even though he wanted to be rescued, he couldn't resist, "This isn't a good time, Aeryn, can't this wait?" he asked, adding just the right amount of irritation.

This time Aeryn didn't have to search for a response, "Fine, Crichton, but I thought you actually cared about this mission, and without my prowler there is no mission!" She practically spat out her comment, and he realized he needed to act quickly to retrieve the situation. Chiana knew too that her chance had just been blown. He pulled himself up off the floor, mouthed "Sorry" to Chiana and quickly left her cell.

He headed out to the hallway, allowing himself one regretful look back. He didn't want to hurt Chiana's feelings, but he was definitely going to have to be more careful in the future.

_Whatever future I have left_, he added to himself. He hadn't gotten very far before he caught up with Aeryn. That was a surprise - he had been pretty sure she would out pace him to the maintenance bay. Mike flashed him a quick warning - Aeryn wanted to pick a fight.

_And how sad is it,_ Crichton found himself thinking, _that I am actually looking forward to that?_ Oh, yeah, fighting with Aeryn would definitely be better than the cold shoulder and silent treatment he'd been getting since their reunion.

"What the _frell_ is the matter with you?" she hissed at him as he came up to her. _Okay_, he quickly reassessed the situation, _she's not going to pretend she doesn't know. Hey, Mike, how 'bout catching me up here?_ Mike let him know immediately that Aeryn was feeling hurt, angry, and confused, and her thoughts were hard to read - in a jumble, in fact.

_Oh, great_, Crichton sourly thought. _So much for the wonders of mind reading - I could have sussed that one out for myself, thank you very much_. He was on his own. _Oh so very not good._ He decided to go for the classic change of subject, "What's wrong with the prowler?" he asked her, trying for a calmness he did not feel.

Bad move. She swung around and verbally let him have it, "You _idiot_! There's _nothing_ wrong with the prowler. What the _frell_ is wrong with _you_! The last thing in the world you need right now is to start something with Chiana!"

He searched his memory and decided he really had never seen her this angry before. He was in trouble and he had a gut instinct that lying wasn't going to help. "Look, it was a mistake, okay? And thank you, by the way, for rescuing me."

He tried smiling at her, but apparently that just tempted her to knock it off his face. Aeryn had never been one to withstand temptation. He reeled away from her in shock and pain. She hadn't hit him that hard in a long time. She had already turned away and was headed down the hallway.

_The hell with that._

He leapt forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her 'round to face him. He put his face close to hers and hollered, "I did _not_ deserve that!"

She swung at him again, but this time he caught her arm, then quickly grabbed her shoulders, slamming her up against Moya's wall. Now they were both out of control with anger. He drew in a deep breath to calm himself.

"Look, Aeryn, I said I made a mistake, okay? Nothing happened. It's over now. Let's not make it worse, huh?"

"No," she yelled at him as she struggled to break free. He felt like he had a tiger by the tail. _Just how mad is she?_ he thought desperately as he tried to hang on.

Mike helpfully informed him that he still could not read her thoughts - but she was indeed very angry.

"Let me go!" she screamed.

"I'll let you go if you agree to talk about this," he heatedly responded.

"All right, Crichton, _fine!_" He cautiously dropped his hands to his sides and backed away a half-step. She immediately pushed him aside and headed back down the hallway.

"This is not what we agreed to!" he yelled at her retreating back.

She stopped and turned back around on her heels. "Okay Crichton, you want to have it out, let's do it!" she snapped at him as she walked towards him again.

"Fine, we obviously need to talk. There's no way we're going on a mission together with things like this," he told her, trying again to keep his voice calm.

She stared at him. "You aren't going without me no matter what!" she threatened.

"What's that supposed to mean? This is _my_ mission. I already told you, I'll go alone if I have to, but I _am_ going. You, on the other hand, are optional." He regretted it the second he said it - he knew by the look on her face that he had just managed to escalate the war. But he couldn't stop himself now - the pent-up anger inside him came roiling out.

"In fact, you know what, I'm making a command decision right now. You're _not_ coming on this mission. Crais and I can handle it just fine. Hell, without any females on board the whole thing should be a piece of cake."

He had no idea what insanity had overtaken him at that point. He could sense Mike flashing him warnings but he was past paying attention to Mike or anything else. Satisfied by the look on her face that he had finally gotten the last word, he spun on his heel and headed back toward's Chiana's cell.

He was not actually headed there, but the direction was apparently enough for Aeryn. He heard the telltale whine of the pulse pistol and, again, he had just enough time to spin around before _- deja vu -_ he was shot again, _in the same frelling knee! _ He realized this time his knee was a total loss. _Damn. Her. Aim. _ He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

  
* * *

  
  


"Jool, you've got to tell Aeryn I'm fine and I'm going to recover. She's probably really upset about this," Crichton pleaded.

"No, I'm not going to lie for you and besides, I don't care if Aeryn is upset - she deserves to be," she responded in no uncertain terms. She couldn't fathom how Crichton could possibly care what Aeryn was feeling after what she had done to him.

"You owe me," he reminded her. "If not for me you would still be a frozen popsicle on the Ice Planet."

"Why do I still owe you for that? If not for me you would be dead now twice over. Three times, if you count getting blown up. No, wait, that was your twin. Anyway, think about it, Crichton. I'm the only female on board who _hasn't_ shot you," Jool gleefully informed him.

"Only because your aim was lousy," he pointed out.

"Well, maybe you need to work on your social skills."

"Maybe. I still need you to tell Aeryn. She's gonna be tearing herself up about this, and I actually am going to be fine." That sobered her. Jool stared at him. _Does he understand how bad this is? _

"Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. Anyway, I need some time to myself, okay?" he insisted.

"Like I'm going to leave you here alone!" she shot back at him.

"I only need a few microts, okay, just go!" He was practically sitting up at this point, and was getting progressively upset. Jool sprang forward and pushed him back onto the medical lab's bed.

"If you want nothing but trouble from me from now on, then go ahead and keep this up," Crichton warned her.

"All right," she practically sobbed, and finally headed out the door. She still managed to get the last word, "You had better be right there when I get back!"

He had been arguing with her since regaining full consciousness. He had spent several days in and out of consciousness, and had a hazy recollection of visitors, and a vague sense that there had been arguing and yelling going on. His shipmates had probably been pretty angry at Aeryn. He was well aware too that under normal circumstances he wouldn't be recovering from this wound. And he knew Jool knew it. But she didn't know that these were not normal circumstances. He found himself wondering if he would have pushed Aeryn so far if he hadn't had the ring.

_Probably not._

But then again, he had been pretty mad.

As soon as Jool was safely out the door, Crichton struggled to sit up and looked under the gold blanket covering him. He'd been afraid to look before this - but, yes, he still had both legs. Jool had done a damn good job of piecing him back together, but his knee was in pretty bad shape. And judging from the amount of pain he was in _on_ drugs he didn't even want to know what it would feel like without them. He figured he'd just let the ring heal his wound enough to ease back on the pain, and then carefully and unobtrusively heal his wound day by day so no one would suspect anything unusual was going on. No point in tempting Rygel to try to scarper off with his ring - the little slug would hardly blanch at cutting off Crichton's finger. He certainly had thought nothing of cutting off one of Pilot's arms.

The blue light of the ring didn't show through the blanket - that was good. He peeked under and watched as the color gradually came back into his leg, and the wound began scabbing over and starting to heal. His leg still felt unnaturally stiff and he reached under and felt the brace holding his leg in rigid position. He couldn't tell how it was attached, but he figured it was the UT version of a cast. As he continued to hold the ring against his knee he could feel his kneecap knitting itself back together, and the pain was definitely subsiding. Satisfied that he was out of danger of losing his leg, he collapsed back against his pillow, feeling weak and sweaty, and began to think about what had happened.

The good news - Aeryn was talking to him again. The bad news - she had shot him. How was he supposed to deal with that? Zhaan was the closest they had had to a therapist, and she was gone. _Can we solve our problems without her?_

Jool had told him that Chiana had taken over the situation, commanding a shocked Aeryn to comm D'Argo and Jool, then ripping Crichton's black T-shirt into strips that she used for a tourniquet. He had taken time to show her how to make one after she had shot him the first time. If she hadn't stopped his bleeding he might not have made it. He found himself remembering the Dom's words - _The ring can only heal you if you are alive to use it._

He needed to be more careful around Aeryn. She was more of a powderkeg than he had realized. And he had to admit to himself that he had definitely lit the match that set her off. _Am I purposely trying to avoid this mission?_ He had known just what buttons to push. _Did I do it deliberately?_

If defeating Scorpius was supposed to be his destiny, he was sure getting good at finding ways to derail fate.

He began drifting off, his troubled thoughts sending him into a restless sleep punctuated by nightmares.

He woke to find Crais leaning over him with a look of concern on his face. The lights were dim - which was good because he had a vicious headache and his mouth felt like cotton. He looked past Crais to find Jool. "Could you get me some water?" he croaked. Jool nodded and soon came back with a full glass, carefully lifting him up so he could drink it.

"Crichton, it's good to see you finally awake," Crais said, a trifle too cheerfully.

_Okay, Mike, show time - this is the guy whose mind I really want to read. _ Mike obliged him immediately, _He is amused that Aeryn shot you and he is hoping that your relationship with her is completely over. And he is afraid the mission will now be put off indefinitely, and he won't get his revenge against Scorpius._

"The mission is still on, Crais, I'm going to be up and around in a few days," Crichton told him. He kept his emotions carefully under control. Crais' thoughts could have been much worse.

"I think you overestimate your body's ability to heal," Crais responded.

"This doesn't affect our timetable, Crais," Crichton had started to struggle to sit up, and was pulling the blanket aside as he did so.

"Take a look - Jool does good work. I'm not even going to have a limp, okay?" he looked up at Crais as he said this, and saw the relief in his eyes. And something more. Surprise? Mike confirmed it. Crais had apparently helped D'Argo carry him to the cargo bay, and had seen firsthand how bad the wound was. _Damn. Jool hadn't mentioned that_. The last thing he needed was for Crais to become suspicious.

"Of course, I'm going to need some down time. D'Argo is going to have to go with you to Trolus and talk with your informant there. I'm obviously not going anywhere for a while. I need to ask him, though. You and Jool are the only ones I've talked to since..." he found himself unable to actually say, "since Aeryn shot me."

Crais seemed to understand, and didn't leave him hanging. "Right. Actually, Crichton, I'll talk to D'Argo myself." He smiled at him, then turned and began walking away.

_He's going to question D'Argo about the weapons,_ Mike informed him. _Oh, hell._

Okay, clearly Crichton was not going to get any rest at this rate. He hurriedly commed D'Argo.

"Head's up heavy Dee," he urgently told the Luxan. "Crais is headed your way, and I think he's going to pump you for information about our trip to Weaponsville. And, _damn_, does anyone else know about this?"

He heard D'Argo suck in his breath, and realized the answer to that question. "I may have mentioned something to Chiana," D'Argo muttered contritely.

"Okay, then you had better get to her and make sure she doesn't tell anyone," Crichton hissed at him. _This is becoming a nightmare._ Even without his shipmates knowing any details, the fact that the weapons were bonded to him was deadly enough knowledge.

He waited.

It wasn't long before Chiana came rushing in. "Crichton, did you say anything to D'Argo about what happened before Aeryn and you..." she trailed off uncertainly and he shook his head at her. "He commed me and said he needs to talk to me..." she told him, the implied question hung in the air between them.

"Yeah, Crais is probably talking to him right now about what happened when we tried to get weapons. D'Argo thinks he may have said something to you about it," he responded, waiting for her reaction.

"Not much, just that you didn't know how to use them, and something weird about them being attached to you," Chiana cocked her head to the side as she relayed D'Argo's words to her with unerring accuracy.

_Damn. Doesn't anybody in this universe have a poor memory?_

"Okay, Chi, here's the deal. You and D'Argo are the only ones who know anything about the weapons, and I want it to _stay_ that way," his eyes locked with hers and his tone was serious. Deadly serious.

"My life kinda depends on it, okay Pip?" he added.

"Well, sure, I'm not a blabbermouth," she responded quickly, with a hurt expression on her face.

He smiled at her use of the human slang word. "No, no, I'm not saying you are. But now we both have a secret to keep, all right?" He watched her face as comprehension dawned. He wasn't saying it, but the implication was there. He suspected that whatever D'Argo and Chiana were going through, their relationship was definitely not over. And if she didn't keep his secret, he would let D'Argo know how his fight with Aeryn had started. Chiana had an incentive now to be careful - and he knew she would be. She nodded at him, and lifted his blanket to take a look at his knee.

"You did good, Chiana. You kept me from bleeding to death before Jool even had a chance to do her magic," he told her gratefully. Chiana smiled back at him, relaxing. "Well, you showed me how. Good thing too. I tried putting pressure on it, but your knee was a total mess. I couldn't even figure out where to press. And Aeryn was practically useless. I had to repeat everything to her two or three times before I could get her to move. Weird how she ended up shooting you in the same leg, huh?"

_Yeah, weird,_ he thought, amused at Chiana's guileless comment. In her anger at him and Chiana, Aeryn's shot was probably dead on where she had wanted to place it. He was trying not to think too much about it. But, unfortunately, he had a lot of time right now to spend with his thoughts.

Chiana was staring at him. "What?" he asked her.

"Did Aeryn know about me and you? Is that why she shot you?" Chiana asked him worriedly.

"No, Chiana. We were arguing about the mission, and I told her she couldn't go. And that made her really mad. I think she just decided to stop me from going without her, the same way you tried. It's a pretty effective method." It wasn't as simplistic as that, but he knew it wasn't fair to blame it entirely on Chiana. Unless she didn't keep his secret.

Chiana slowly nodded, "Okay, I just wanted to make sure. Can I get you anything?"

Crichton shook his head. "I'm fine, thanks. If I need anything I'll let you know."

"All right." She kissed him on his forehead, and purred in his ear, "Get better soon, okay?"

"Yeah, I'm working on it." She left, and he found himself wondering if she had meant something more by her comment. Chiana could be very persistent.

She turned to him just as she reached the doorway. "You know what, Crichton? Maybe it was Aeryn that I saw in my vision." Crichton frowned at her. "Yeah, that makes sense, Chiana, but it doesn't help."

She looked at him for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, I guess not. See ya old man." And she was gone.

He tried resting for a while after Chiana's visit, and then Rygel came in to see him. Sort of. The little Hynerian's whirring thronesled gave him away, but Crichton decided to pretend to be too deeply asleep to notice. And, just as he expected, Rygel tried his best to take his ring off. D'Argo came in and quietly watched the Dominar's efforts. Then he growled, and poor Rygel nearly fell out of his sled, then quickly recovered his balance and zoomed out of the room before the Luxan warrior could catch him. Crichton opened his eyes and winked at his Luxan visitor.

D'Argo patted his shoulder, and lifted the gold blanket. He wrinkled his nose. "This is bad, my friend. Not only are you unable to get out of bed, and every female aboard this ship will be fussing over you, but now I have to accompany Crais to Trolus - and I cannot stand being near him. I do not understand how you can trust him to go on this mission.

"Jealousy will get you nowhere," he murmured tiredly.

"I will check on you again when I get back," D'Argo promised him. "And as for Crais, he found out nothing from me."

Crichton smiled grimly at him. "I didn't think he would."

  
* * *

  
  


Aeryn. When she came into the room he sensed her without even turning to look. She had that effect on him. Whatever Jool had said to her, it was enough to bring her here. He really owed Jool for that one. She quietly approached him and without making eye contact reached out and lifted the blanket from off his knee, and then pulled it away completely. He was immediately conscious of his state of undress - gray tank top, black boxers, nothing else. Her close proximity was enough to cause an involuntary reaction - just one more embarrassment in his life, hardly worth noticing. And she didn't seem to notice. She held the blanket tightly in her hands as she leaned forward to see his knee for herself. To know that what she had done wasn't irreparable. He stared at her, taking in her free flowing dark hair, which for once was not harshly pulled back. She seemed relaxed somehow. He didn't know how he knew that. _Small blessings._ He was grateful for every one of them. She finally turned to look at him, satisfied with her inspection. He hoped he had passed.

Apparently he had.

Without a word, or even a silent request of her eyes, which had been locked on his, she climbed onto his bed and snuggled up against him, spreading the blanket over them both. His surprise was complete. She draped her leg across his uninjured leg, and nestled against his neck, laying one hand across the flat planes of his midsection. He didn't dare breathe for a moment, afraid to disturb her or wake her from whatever dream-state she was in. He listened to her breathing and realized she had fallen asleep. Just like that. He was amazed at her ability to do that. _How much sleep has she had in the last few days? Or even since the death of my twin?_ He consciously relaxed, trying not to move or do anything to alter his incredible good fortune. They remained like that for a long time, and he finally drifted off to sleep himself. No dreams. Just deep, restful slumber. She had that effect on him too.

Jool came in to check on him and then discreetly backpedaled at the sight that greeted her. Rygel came in again, and the sight of Aeryn back together with the human was enough to convince him he didn't really need the ring after all, and he whirred back out the door in disgust. Crais tried to find Aeryn after his talk with D'Argo - first checking her quarters, then seeing if she was working on her Prowler. He gave up at that point and asked Pilot to locate her. Pilot informed him that she was with Crichton, and they were _not to be disturbed._

They slept for at least five arns. When he awoke to find her still peacefully cuddled against him he was elated. _Progress. Finally._ Of course, he was still concerned that she had acted out of deep exhaustion - but he wasn't about to let niggling thoughts like that stem his rising tide of joy. His moments of peace and contentment in this universe were so few and far between. She stirred beside him and opened her eyes, looking confused for a moment. _Uh oh, here it comes,_ he thought worriedly. But she surprised him again, and smiled at him as she pulled herself away, leaving him feeling unreasonably cold in the places she had been keeping warm. She carefully covered him back up in his blanket and looked around to make sure they were still alone.

"Thank you," she told him calmly.

That was _his_ line. _What's she thanking me for? Mike?_ His warton didn't disappoint him. _She needed to be with you, to feel you breathing and alive. She is remembering your twin. Be careful._

"Any time. And I do mean, _any time_," he responded, attempting a tentative smile back.

Jool came in just at that moment, with a tray of hot food. "Chiana's taken pity on you, Crichton. And I do believe she has made enough for two if you want some Aeryn." Her timing was perfect. _Did Pilot let her know the moment we woke up?_ He wouldn't be surprised. Jool didn't stick around - now that she had someone else to watch him she was going to take advantage of it, and take care of some things left undone due to the initial heavy demands on her time while dealing with Crichton's injury.

Aeryn stayed and shared his meal. Literally. He sat with the tray on his lap, and she picked at it, taking whatever she fancied, while refusing to admit to any hunger. He would have found this amusing if he didn't feel the need to settle some things with her. He figured now was as good a time as any to get things straightened out between them. Just as he was about to break the silence, Aeryn spoke up.

"Take it back," she told him.

He looked at her, puzzled.

"What you said, take it back," she said again.

_Mike?_

_She is referring to your fight - you told her she couldn't come on the mission._

Okay. He was dense. Must be the drugs. But now he had a problem. He had had time to think about the mission - and it actually would work better if he and Crais went without Aeryn. That way Scorpius wouldn't have to be convinced they had a falling out - he and Crais had never been willing allies. _And there was no point in risking Aeryn's life unnecessarily._ He paused in his thoughts long enough to look up at Aeryn, and she was staring expectantly at him. With one hard swallow he plunged ahead.

"If you're talking about me saying you couldn't come on the mission," he paused and she nodded at him, "well, I know I was angry when I said it, but it actually makes for good strategy," he finished as he reached for his drink. But he didn't get to drink, or for that matter eat anything else. Aeryn reached over and slammed her fist down on his tray, sending everything flying. _So much for peace and contentment._

"What the hell did you do that for?" he yelled as he tried to wipe up the spills and food that were now covering his blanket instead of laying neatly on his tray.

"I meant what I said, Crichton. You're not going on this mission without me," she yelled back at him.

"Okay, Aeryn, we are _not_ going to have the same fight all over again," he told her. "Just calm down."

"You asked for volunteers and I was the first to stand by your side. And this is how you treat me!" She had come up to him and leaned right into his face as she said this. "And you don't even trust Crais! Now you want _only_ him with you on this mission? That doesn't even make sense, Crichton."

"Well it does if you think about the plan, Aeryn. I don't have to trust Crais - he's supposed to betray me and turn me over to Scorpius. It's actually what he wants to do, so he's not going to have a problem with it. You, on the other hand, have never liked the plan. So staying behind is a good, rational way to deal with the problem," Crichton had reached out to hold her shoulders while he told her this, partly to gain some control of the situation, and partly to give himself a little breathing room. This time he was determined to stay calm. No way was he going to let this conversation escalate out of control. He was tired of being shot.

Aeryn pulled away from him and began pacing the room. Crichton was just considering using his comm to get some help when she turned back to him and seemed to have calmed down considerably. _All right, she's seeing that this makes sense, right?_

Mike promptly disabused him of that notion. _She is determined to go on this mission - she is thinking of what she can say or do to change your mind. She is very upset and her thoughts are chaotic._

That sounded too much like her emotional state in their earlier fight. Crichton tapped his comm. "D'Argo, I need you down here," he told the Luxan, keeping one eye on his angry companion.

"D'Argo, don't you _dare_ interrupt us!" Aeryn had commed him herself before he could reply to Crichton's request.

"Um, okay, what do you want me to do _now_ Crichton?" D'Argo finally asked. Aeryn turned and glared at him. _Okay, not fair to drag D'Argo into this fight - we can deal with this ourselves. I hope._

"Never mind, big guy, I'll handle it," Crichton told him. He began rolling up his blanket and dropped it over the side. _No point in sitting here with food and drink all over myself_. He first tried to get another blanket himself, but as he slid off the bed he bumped his knee slightly and it nearly made him faint. Aeryn saw him visibly pale and helped him back onto the bed. He couldn't believe how weak he felt. Aeryn quickly got him another blanket and helped him settle back down. He looked exhausted, and for a brief moment she regretted upsetting him.

"You know what, this isn't a good time. I'm kinda tired, and I don't think we can resolve this right now. Can we talk about this later?" he asked wearily.

"This isn't complicated, Crichton. I am going. You just need to accept it," Aeryn told him as she wiped the sweat off his brow with a cloth by his bedside.

"God, Aeryn you are so impossible sometimes!" he snapped at her, grabbing the cloth and tossing it away.

"Get used to it, Crichton. Nothing you say, nothing you do, is keeping me from going. Do you really thinking Crais is going to agree to go without me?" She was leaning forward again, right in his face.

_It's not going to happen. Give it up now. You are going on this mission alone, Johnny boy._

"Fine, Aeryn _whatever_. I just need to get some rest," he told her and turned away from her, covering his head with the blanket like a child futilely trying to block out the world.

Aeryn stared at his back for a moment. "So it's settled, I'm going with you, right?" she asked hesitantly.

"I am tired, Aeryn, just go _away_," he said sleepily.

She stared at him a moment longer, then turned on her heel and left.

_She's going to talk to Crais,_ Mike told him. Crichton figured he could just imagine that little conversation. He rolled onto his back, pulling the blanket down from his face, just as D'Argo came running into the room. The look on his face was almost comical as he realized Aeryn was no where in sight. Crichton smiled tiredly at him.

"Hey, big guy. Sorry about that. She left to talk to Crais." He realized the moment he said it that Aeryn hadn't actually told him that. _Damn._ He needed to be more careful.

"What happened?" D'Argo quickly asked him.

"Nothing. We just had another fight." Crichton decided not to mention any details.

"Has it occurred to you, Crichton, that you need to stop fighting with the women on this ship?" D'Argo pointedly asked him.

"Yeah, D'Argo. I know that," Crichton agreed. He was definitely two for two on the losing end.

D'Argo came up to him and lifted the blanket to look at his leg again. Crichton wondered if he should just leave it uncovered, since no one seemed to be able to stop checking on it.

"It's looking much better. I think you will live," D'Argo told him with a smile.

"Yeah, I guess so. The cane you made me is back in my cell. Would you mind getting it for me?" he asked the Luxan, just as Jool came into the room.

Jool heard his question. "I don't think so," she snapped at Crichton.

D'Argo looked at her inquiryingly.

"If you give him the cane he'll want to get up, and he is not ready for that. I'll let you know when he is," she told the Luxan.

D'Argo nodded, patted Crichton on the shoulder, and made a hasty retreat. As he was leaving, he heard his friend arguing with Jool about the cane. He shook his head in despair.

  
* * *

  
  


Aeryn found Crais in his quarters, getting ready to go down to meet their informant.

"I was just talking with Crichton," she told him without preamble.

Crais looked at her impatiently. "D'Argo is waiting for me in the docking bay, Aeryn. Can we discuss this later?" he asked her.

"I just have one question," she told him.

He looked harried, but nodded curtly at her. "Go ahead."

"Would you even consider going on this mission without me?"

"Why do you ask that?"

Aeryn frowned at him. "I just need to know, Crais."

He shook his head. "We will need your piloting skills. And only you and I have the military experience needed for this mission. Which is why I still say Crichton should not be in command." He paused for a moment. "Aeryn, are you saying you don't want to come?" She felt relieved by his worried expression.

"No, of course not. I just wanted to make sure you were still planning on me going with you," she quickly reassured him.

Crais looked at her in confusion.

"Never mind," she told him, and brusquely left his cell and headed back down the corridor. Crais stared after her for a few microts, wondering what that had been about, and then hurriedly left to meet D'Argo.


	4. Why try to hide it from any of us?

  
  


Chapter 4.  
"Why try to hide it from any of us?"

  


He was in a seriously foul mood. And his headache was almost blinding him with pain. He had been arguing about having the cane and then the whole thing had escalated. He was beginning to think arguing was the only way to communicate on board Moya. Did anybody ever do anything on this ship without yelling?

"I'm telling you, I need to be up and about. I can't just lie here doing nothing. Humans need to use their muscles to keep their circulation going. If I keep laying here, my muscles will grow too weak. I have to move around, or my blood could pool and clot. Then, Jool, I could have a stroke or a heart attack, and, yes, you won't have me around to pester you anymore, but I will be _dead_. And if you care about your patients at all, you will see that that's _not_ a good thing.

Jool wasn't buying it. "Crichton, you told me yourself that there are people on your world who can't walk, and they have wheelchairs that they stay in all day except when they're in bed, right? And yet they're somehow still alive." Her look of triumph made him wish he hadn't been so chatty whatever day he had given her that piece of information.

He nodded. "Well, yeah, but they also have physical therapists and family members to massage their muscles, and their muscles are never as strong as they would be if they could walk and run. Muscles atrophy, Jool, over time. And I'm not home. There isn't going to be anyone massaging my muscles or putting me in a nursing home if things don't work out. Look around, Jool, we are all on our own and we have to survive. And I have a mission to plan. I can't just stay here day after day. I have things I have to do." He had to stop and hold his head in both hands - all this arguing was making it hurt even more. Then he realized his ring was doing wonders for his headache, and he turned away, making sure that Jool didn't notice the telltale blue light. _Oh, man, much better._ He realized gratefully that his ring was better than the aspirin he often found himself wishing for on board Moya.

"All I asked you to do was wait two more days, Crichton," Jool reminded him. "The scan shows that your knee is healing amazingly well, but right now if you try to do too much too soon, everything I've done for you will be a total waste." Jool came towards him while she told him this, and he quickly pulled the ring away from his head.

"Fine. I'm getting up anyway, and you really can't stop me. I am sick of being here. I need to have some privacy." He had sat up and was bringing his legs over to the side of the bed when he heard Jool comming D'Argo. _Crap. He's a bigger mother hen than Jool._

"D'Argo, I need you to help me with Crichton." Jool stood with her back to Crichton.

"What is going on now," D'Argo grumbled. "I was just leaving to go planet side with Crais.

"Well, I can't get Crichton to stay in bed," Jool answered him, "and he insists that he needs to start walking around, which will ruin all my work." She glanced around at Crichton as she said this, and to her horror he had almost made it to the door.

"Get back here," she said as she grabbed one of his arms and began pulling him away from the exit.

"Jool, knock it off!" He managed to yank his arm away from her, and headed towards the door again, almost bumping into Aeryn in the process. Aeryn took instant stock of the situation and pulled him up against her and spun him around - right back towards his bed. He couldn't keep his balance long enough to stop her and stay upright. He found himself back in bed before he was able to even get out so much as a protest.

"Never mind D'Argo, Aeryn's here and she's taken care of it," Jool breathlessly told the Luxan.

"Good. Crais and I should be back in four or five arns. Just try not to get in any trouble until we get back."

"Well, `trouble' is back in bed, so no problem," Jool told him. She thanked Aeryn for her help, and asked her to keep an eye on Crichton. She needed to get a shower and some rest. Aeryn nodded at her and settled into the chair by his bedside, with a look of determination on her face. She didn't have to wait very long before Crichton started in again.

"Look, Aeryn, I need some time to myself, okay? I'm just asking for 500 microts," he pleaded with her.

She turned her chair away from him, ignoring him.

He tried again. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise. I just need to be alone for a while." He waited, but she didn't move or say anything.

He sat up and looked at his leg, wondering how hard it would be to take the brace off. He still hadn't figured out how it was attached, which would be an obstacle to that plan. He decided to try using the ring to finish healing his knee. He really couldn't waste any more time. With Crais and D'Argo off the ship, he needed to talk to Pilot about his plans. He knew he could trust Pilot not to tell the others. And - he glanced over at Aeryn - he was as alone as he was going to get on this ship. Aeryn had her back turned to him and didn't seem at all interested in what he was doing. He fervently hoped she wouldn't notice, anyway.

The blue glow of his ring told him healing was in process. He determined to keep the ring in place until his knee was completely healed. The feeling in his leg was akin to pain, but he stuck with it. He found himself sweating after a few moments, and holding back grunts of pain. Oh yeah, this was working, but it wasn't easy. He could see that the light was growing dimmer, indicating that the healing process was just about complete. His total focus at this point was on his leg, and he was definitely not paying enough attention to Aeryn. She grabbed his blanket and pulled it away before he realized what she intended - and before he could pull his ring away.

"What are you _doing,_ Crichton?" she asked, staring at the faint blue glow around his hand and knee.

He quickly pulled the ring back and grabbed for his blanket, but she swung it out of his reach and asked him again, "Tell me. What. Is. Going. On?"

He fell weakly against his pillow. Aeryn grabbed his hand and looked at the ring. "You said this was just a gift from the Dom you talked to. What is it really?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he told her. He tried pulling his hand back, but she held fast. He was still sweating and feeling exhausted from the rapid healing process, and he was in no mood to answer questions. Especially questions about the ring. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should never have tried to use it with Aeryn around._

"What does it do?" she asked. She was not letting this go. And she still had a firm grip on his hand. Now she began trying to pull the ring off, and was finding out that it wouldn't budge.

"This is a pretty tight fit, Crichton," she murmured as she yanked again, hard.

"Aeryn, geez, stop it!" he managed to pull his hand free and tuck it under crossed arms before she could grab it again.

"Just _tell me_, Crichton!" She was getting angry now.

"It's need to know only, Aeryn." He tried to make that sound like a final statement. End of story. Closed subject. Nothing more to be said. That's all he wrote. Fini.

"So it's one of the weapons the Dom gave you?"

There was no point in hiding it. "Yeah. So let's just drop it, okay?" He reached out for his blanket again, and this time she gave it to him. In the middle of arranging it over himself she grabbed for his hand again, and began giving the ring a more minute examination.

He decided to let her do it. The tug-of-war between them was getting old. He settled back on his pillow and she continued looking at the ring.

"It doesn't come off, does it?" she finally asked him.

"Nope."

"Is this why your knee healed so well, when everyone was sure you'd never walk again?" _Damn, she's so perceptive. How am I supposed to hide anything from her?_ He decided to keep it short.

"Yep."

"Then why didn't you just heal your knee right from the start? Why all the fussing around? You obviously haven't been enjoying being stuck here." _Of course. The questions will just keep on coming until she knows everything. You are such an idiot! Did you really think you could hide anything from Aeryn?_

"Right now, you're the only one who knows. I was hoping to keep it from everyone. Aeryn, you are right, this ring doesn't come off. If someone wants it from me, getting it wouldn't be pretty. _Capisce?_"

"But why hide it from us? We want you to heal - no one aboard Moya has been exactly reveling in your sick time, I promise you. Why try to hide it from any of us?"

"Because, Aeryn," he looked at her pointedly, "Not everyone aboard Moya would think it was just a neat trick. Rygel would sell me upriver for a whole lot less than this ring. He's tried it before, if you recall. And you were right earlier when you mentioned I don't trust Crais. And any one of you could tell this to the wrong person, at any time, and end my life right then and there. This ring is unique, Aeryn. Valuable - and worth killing for. Now that you know about it, Scorpius can get the information from you. That would lead to him wanting to visit the good people living on that nice little planet - which actually is a pretty peaceful place, considering they deal in weapons. But believe me, if Scorpius pays them a visit, that would all change. The Dom thinks they can hide from Scorpius. But I think he underestimates our hybrid friend. Scorpy might just take it into his head to nuke their whole planet, rather than risk having their weapons fall into the hands of his enemies. And, trust me on this Aeryn, the weapons have fallen into the hands of at least one of his worst enemies already. Scorpy can reconstruct a whole building from a single block of information. Don't think he won't figure it out."

"Oh." She stared at his ring, her earlier fascination with it turning to horror.

She looked at him, realization dawning in her eyes. "And you have other weapons, right?" She dreaded the answer, now.

"Need to know, Aeryn, need to know." He gently pulled back his hand and tucked both hands under his head and stared up at the ceiling. _It's all getting to be too much._ There were pitfalls everywhere he looked, and Aeryn, the love of his life, was one of the biggest pitfalls he could see ahead. Oh, yeah, he could not afford to let her anywhere near Scorpius now. _Damn it._ Did he have no brains at all? How could he have let this happen?

Her next comment fell right in with his own thoughts, "This is a disaster, Crichton. What were you thinking?"

"You know, Aeryn, sometimes things just happen! When we went down to that planet, D'Argo and I were just looking to buy weapons. We didn't know what they had, and we didn't have any idea what to expect. We just figured we'd take a look, buy what interested us, and get the hell out of Dodge. But no, it couldn't be that easy. They kept telling me they were giving me gifts. And it wasn't optional, Aeryn. They said I needed them to accomplish my mission. I haven't told you even a fraction of what happened down there. But, bottom line, they didn't give me a choice. I found out everything after the fact, okay?" He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. _Why does everything have to be so hard! _

Aeryn stared at him. "So, the ring doesn't come off, and you can't give it back. What about the other weapons?"_ Oh god, it was never going to end. She could be so relentless!_

"You know what, Aeryn, I can't keep answering your questions, okay? This is too dangerous for us both. How 'bout helping me out of this damn bed. I'm ready to take a shower and put some clothes on. You can tell Jool I drove you crazy until you agreed to do it. She'll understand, trust me."

He was afraid she would fight him, but finally she stepped forward and helped him out of bed. His leg felt much better. If he hadn't had the brace on, he was pretty sure he could have made it to his cell without any help, but his balance was thrown all off. Aeryn was silent all the way back to his cell. In spite of how good his leg felt, he was still weak from bed rest, and just wanted to take a long, hot shower. Aeryn insisted on staying with him while he showered and dressed. Normally that would have thrilled him. But this time, he knew she was just waiting to pump him for more information. This wasn't over. _Not by a longshot._

As the spray from the shower sluiced over his body, he leaned back against the wall and tried to relax. The thought of Aeryn finding out about Mike was enough to start his heart racing again. He knew he had screwed up big time with the ring. The Dom and his people must have made a mistake. They couldn't possibly have meant to give him these gifts/weapons/whatever when he was obviously too stupid to have them. What were they thinking? Who was the sick bastard in charge of this neck of the universe who was expecting him to save anyone from anything? He couldn't even figure out how to defeat Scorpius - and he was just one guy in a long line of Peacekeeper baddies. Crichton knew his plan had enough holes in it to make Swiss cheese. Hell, Aeryn had known it. Probably Crais too. And as for his "weapons," well that was working out great so far. He hadn't kept the ring secret. And he was relying on Scorpius to be less sharp than Aeryn had been. And Mike, his big secret weapon, had been of very little help so far. _Oh, yeah, this is gonna work great_.

He quickly finished his shower, and wrapped a towel around his waist. _Well, at least some things are improving._ He could shower by himself now. Big step up in basic hygiene. He had a hope of some privacy. And he got to wear clothes again, and soon good ol' Winona would be loyally tucked up against his thigh. Sometimes it's the simple things in life that keep you going. He was smiling to himself as he picked his pants up off the shelf. There also didn't seem to be a downside to the modifications he had made to his module. That thought cheered him considerably. By the time he came out, he felt ready to take on the world again. Well, almost. Except for the annoying hop/walk that he was temporarily stuck with. _I really need Jool to take off this damn brace._ He commed her as he stepped back into his cell living area.

Aeryn was still waiting for him, sitting on his bed and looking at his notebook. He sympathized. It wasn't like you could just pick up a book in the Uncharted Territories. No magazines, either.

_She is thinking about your twin, Crichton. She still has his notebook._

He'd forgotten about that. He found himself wondering how much his newfound ability to mind read would affect his relationship with Aeryn - and others. He tore his eyes away from her and the notebook, and turned his attention back to his more immediate problem.

"Jool, I need you to get this brace off my leg. Could you come by my cell?" He paused, waiting for her response.

"Crichton, what the frell are you doing in your cell? Where's Aeryn?"

"She's with me," he said impatiently, "she helped me here. Just answer my question."

"Fine, I'll take it off, but only after I scan it again, to make sure it's healed enough."

"Fine, Jool, I just want it gone." He tapped his comm into the off position. Aeryn was looking at him.

"I talked with Crais, you know." He had been expecting this comment, thanks to Mike.

"He thinks we should each have a vote - not just follow you blindly. He says that you are the least experienced amongst us, and you shouldn't have the final say about anything."

"Aeryn, this is getting really old. You and Crais don't have to come, okay? Let's just forget I ever said anything about it." He sat down next to her, waiting for Jool to come. Hoping she hurried. He couldn't believe he had been so happy earlier that Aeryn was talking to him again. Now he wanted her to just leave him alone. Amazing.

"Well, I think you need to consider what he said. You really don't know our world like we do, Crichton."

He held his head in his hands. "Yeah, Aeryn, I wasn't born in space, or shanghaied from a farm to serve the greater good. But you know what, I'm still the guy with the wormhole knowledge everybody's so hot to get their hands on. I can't just lay that aside." He pulled his hands away from his face and turned to look at her.

"And I can't keep running from Scorpy, the Scarrens, and the endless assortment of alien bad guys inhabiting the Uncharted Territories. I haven't had any control of anything since I got here. And I'm damned if I am going to let you and Crais make decisions for me. You can help, but if you think I'm letting either one of you take charge, think again, Aeryn."

She was quiet for a moment. _Blessed relief._

Jool came bustling in with the scanner, and another device Crichton didn't recognize, but hoped was a grade-A certified brace-remover.

"You need to take those pants off," Jool informed him without preamble. She seemed totally unaware of the tension in the room.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that," Crichton muttered. The damn things hadn't been easy to get on, and now he was going to have to work them off in front of two females who were intently watching him. At least he hadn't tried to put his boots on.

He stood up and looked at Aeryn and Jool. _More embarrassment._

Jool figured it out. "I'll help you. Just sit down."

"I don't think so," Aeryn told her, sharply. She brushed past Jool and grabbed the front of Crichton's pants, clearly claiming her territory. The whole thing would have been far more erotic if Jool hadn't been standing by waiting with medical gear. Aeryn was nothing if not efficient. He was in boxer shorts again in short order. He had sat back down on the bed as Aeryn helped him, and Jool ordered him to lie down on his stomach.

"Is this gonna hurt?" he asked as he complied.

"Don't be a baby," Jool snapped at him.

"Have you people ever heard of `bedside manner?'" he grumbled, mostly to himself.

Jool had the brace off in a few microts, and he sat up and experimentally bent his knee. Stiff, but it would do. He got up and paced the length of his cell and back again - amazing how such an ordinary act could feel so good. Both women watched him as he walked around and it suddenly dawned on him where their attention was focused, reminding him that he really needed to put his pants back on. He quickly sat back down and grabbed his pants, starting to put them on as Jool left his cell.

"Just don't overdo it, Crichton. I am a free woman now and I intend to stay that way." Jool didn't even glance back as she headed out into the hallway.

Aeryn came over and sat by him again. "Crichton, before you put those back on, why don't you see if your leg is completely healed?"

"What? You mean with the ring?" he asked her, putting his pants aside again.

"Well, yes. If it isn't completely healed you could injure it again," she told him.

"Aeryn, that's a good idea." He put the ring against his knee and the light glowed blue for about 20 microts before completely fading. "Good call," he told her.

"You better periodically check it, Crichton."

"Yeah, that makes sense." He started putting his pants on again and suddenly found his mind filled with Aeryn's thoughts - she was thinking how much he reminded her of his twin. Every muscle, every movement, all so familiar and so well-loved. She had memorized everything about him, and the memories came welling up, unbidden, flooding her mind and overwhelming her. For the first time since having Mike he felt like a Peeping Tom. _Back off, Mike._ The flow of thoughts instantly stopped.

"You know," her hand was on his knee before she had time to think it through, and Crichton looked at her and abruptly stopped trying to get his pants back on, "We could test that knee now, if you want."

_No frelling way, Aeryn. We are not making love in memory of my dead twin._

"Um, Aeryn, that's a nice thought, but I don't think it's a good idea," he gently told her.

Mike sent him a quick message, _What are you doing? She wants you!_

"What, you want to play with safety?" she teased him, looking down at her hand on his knee.

"That's `play it safe,' Aeryn, and yes, I do." He took her chin in his hand and lifted her face up to face him. "You were right, you know."

She stared at him, frowning. He could tell she had no clue what he was talking about.

He smiled. "About personal indulgences and small crews," he explained.

She pulled away from him angrily. "So you're throwing that on my face?" She was standing up now, looking down on him with anger and shock.

This time he didn't dare correct her. "No, I'm not. It's just - I've got to focus on my mission, Aeryn. I can't handle anything else right now." He stood up and tried to put a consoling hand on her shoulder, but she backed away, slapping his hand aside.

"_Fine._ At least you still have _Harvey_ to keep you company!" With that scathing comment, she turned and stormed out of his cell. He put his head in his hands and sank back down on his bed. For a long while he stayed like that, feeling sorry for himself, and then he slowly started putting his pants back on, mentally taking a moment to give Mike a new command - _From now on I don't want to know what Aeryn is thinking unless it affects my mission. Period._

He had turned Aeryn down once before, when she had suggested casual sex as a way to reduce bodily fluid levels. He didn't want their relationship to head in that direction. And knowing that she was still mourning his twin had put him in yet another situation that required him to turn her down. The fact that it was necessary didn't make it any easier. _You think you'll get a third chance, Johnny boy?_ He doubted it. He admitted to himself that he actually needed Aeryn to be mad at him again so she would avoid him as much as possible.

And now, he needed to have that talk with Pilot.

  
* * *

  
  


"Pilot, have you heard anything from Crais and D'Argo about those coordinates?" he asked as he entered Pilot's den.

"Commander, I told you I would inform you the microt I heard anything," Pilot calmly informed him.

"Yeah, I know, I just wanted to be sure," Crichton told him. "I'll go work on my module, I guess. Let me know as soon as you-" Pilot interrupted him, "Commander, I am receiving the coordinates now."

"Excellent. Send them right over to my module, Pilot. When are D'Argo and Crais due back?"

"D'Argo commed me a half arn ago and indicated that he and Crais would be back within the arn," Pilot replied. "Why am I sending the coordinates to your module instead of to Talyn?" he queried.

Crichton jumped onto Pilot's console and hunkered down by him as he responded, "Change of plans, Pilot. And this is strictly between you and me. I've decided to go alone - there's no point in risking Aeryn, Crais and Talyn on this mission. But if anyone discovers too soon that I'm gone, this isn't going to work."

"I admit, Commander, that Moya is relieved to know that Talyn will not be going. May I ask how you intend to keep the others from discovering you are gone?"

"Well, Pilot, that's where you come in," Crichton told him. "Everyone needs to think I'm still on board for about two solar days. By then it would be too late to follow me. So official word is I'm in my quarters, or working on my module - just conjure me up wherever everyone else isn't - move me around a little - keep them guessing as long as you can. You can always tell them I don't want to be disturbed. In fact, before I go I'll get real cranky with everyone - I've already got Aeryn mad at me again - and that'll keep them from wanting to be around me until it's too late for anyone to go after me. And you will be sending coordinates to Talyn - just not the same ones you are sending to my module."

Pilot looked dubious, but Crichton patted his shoulder, "Relax, Pilot, I know what I'm doing. You've been wanting a vacation from me for a while now. Just think of the peace and quiet you'll have when I'm gone." _At least until they find out what I've done._

"Commander, Moya and I do not want anything bad to happen to you," Pilot protested.

"Yeah, I know, Pilot. But I've kinda run out of choices. If I stay on Moya, I put everyone in danger. And I'm tired of being a target. I'll let you know when I'm ready to go, and you just keep everyone guessing long enough for me to get to Scorpius' command carrier. Okay?"

"D'Argo and Crais are signaling Moya to open her docking bay."

"Great, I'll go down and meet them." He turned to look back at Pilot again. "I'll leave a message for you to play when they figure out I'm gone, Pilot. I don't want anyone mad at you for helping me."

"Thank you, Commander Crichton. Moya and I were concerned that the others might be angry with us. Good luck, Commander. We will miss you."

"Oh, and Pilot, don't keep those coordinates. If you have them they'll be after me the microt they get them from you." Pilot did not doubt the truth of that statement. Nor did he pretend he could keep anything from Moya's crew for any length of time. He knew better than that.

  
* * *

  
  


Crais and D'Argo were just getting out of the pod as Crichton came into the docking bay. "Hey guys, how'd it go?" he asked.

D'Argo looked irritated. "We got the coordinates, but our informant wants to meet you. He made us promise we would ask you."

Crais added, "I believe he is curious to see what a `human' looks like. And, apparently, your exploits are well-known to him. You do not, of course, have to do this, since he already gave us what we want."

_Crais intends to tell you he doesn't trust the informant,_ Mike whispered in his mind, _but he really wants to have some time alone with Aeryn. He is convinced that they need to take over the mission plans._ And D'Argo will not let you go alone if you insist on going.

"I think I'll give the autograph session a miss. I've got some work to do on my module," Crichton told them both.

D'Argo nodded his head and grunted. "I see you are recovered from your wound. It is good to see you up and about."

Crichton smiled back at him. "Yeah, you were right. Too many females were fussing over me. Oh, by the way, Aeryn's mad at me again - don't ask." D'Argo gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and headed out of the docking bay. Crais stayed behind for a moment, giving Crichton a curious look.

"Something on your mind, Crais?" he asked with an innocent look.

"I am not sure we can trust this informant. Perhaps you should meet with him," Crais told him.

It was too easy. "Yeah, okay, if you think it's important. Tell me who, when and where."

After Crais had filled him in, Crichton headed to his cell, comming Pilot on the way.

"'Nother change of plans, Pilot. I'm going down to the planet for a few days. At least, that's what you're going to tell everyone. D'Argo and Crais found an informant who wants to meet me, and that works out even better with my plans."

"Commander, are you sure-" Pilot started. "Yes, Pilot, just do it, okay?" Crichton was already packing supplies as he responded impatiently to Pilot's concerns. "If anyone asks, I need some time alone."

He headed to the maintenance bay, already feeling his stomach muscles tighten as he prepared to face his nemesis."

He debated stopping planet side first, then rejected it. The chance to get going with his mission drew him like a magnet. And he hadn't been able to try out his new and improved module - a temptation that he was truly unable to resist. Aeryn would be deeply surprised to find out his "pile of dren" module was now as fast as a command carrier, and had weapons capability - weapons that were as well-hidden as Mike. And the sophistication of his new onboard navigation system would have shocked IASA. All the arns he had spent making the modifications to his module would now payoff. And all the changes were virtually unnoticeable by scan. Only if Scorpius insisted on the module being taken apart piece by piece would there be a problem. And he didn't think Scorpy would be that interested in his primitive vehicle.

He had barely had enough time to record a message for Moya's crew before leaving. In fact, he had completely forgotten about it until he saw the little DRD waiting beside his module, reminding him of Pilot - and his promise. He wouldn't put it past Pilot to have arranged that.

In spite of himself, he felt elated to be in space again. Nothing about his insane trip through the Uncharted Territories could be regretted if he could periodically do just what he was doing - flying through this huge expanse of space and having the privilege of viewing an incredible vista of stars and planets. No astronaut back home could ever begin to do enough "missions" to hold a candle to all that he had done, and regularly did as he lived aboard Moya and traveled with his companions from planet to planet. Just the thought of being on another planet had been such an incredible experience at first. And that feeling of amazed wonder had never totally left him. He circled Moya once before heading out. Moya - his home. He was leaving her and his newfound family. _And Aeryn._

_They are all going to be royally pissed when they finally discover what I've done._


	5. What the frell is going on now?

  
  


Chapter 5.  
"What the frell is going on now?"

  


After he had checked on Talyn and made sure Pilot had sent the coordinates to his ship, Crais had headed back to Moya to talk with Aeryn. He was on his way to her quarters when D'Argo commed him asking if he knew where Crichton was, and the Luxan was angry to discover that Crais had let Crichton go down to the planet by himself to talk with their informant.

"He shouldn't have gone alone, Crais. He has only just recovered from his injury," D'Argo growled into his comm.

"I am certain the Commander can take care of himself, D'Argo," Crais impatiently assured the Luxan. "Now, if you will excuse me, I need to speak with Aeryn."

Aeryn looked up as Crais stood in her doorway. "I'm busy, Crais, what do you need?"

He stepped forward and told her, "You and I need to talk about this mission. I am concerned about what happened between you and Crichton."

Aeryn stopped cleaning her rifle long enough to give him a look that would have given most men pause. "Don't go there, Crais. It's none of your business."

"I think it is, Aeryn. If you and Crichton can't handle being together on this mission, then that does affect me. If you need some time to work things out-" he began, and Aeryn put her rifle down and stood up, her eyes flashing with anger.

"There is nothing for us to work out, Crais, and I am warning you now, do not interfere in this."

Crais found himself unsure how to proceed. He had been hoping that Aeryn would tell him Crichton was just a crew member, nothing more. Instead she seemed more emotionally involved with Crichton than he was comfortable with. He began pacing and Aeryn sat back down and calmly picked up her rifle and began cleaning it again. Crais stopped and watched her for a moment.

"We have very little time. Crichton now has the location of Scorpius' command carrier and he will be anxious to carry out his plans. He said he would be open to other plans, and you and I should talk about that. You know we need to find a way to kill Scorpius. A soldier does not leave his enemy to return and attack him again. We need to come up with a plan that you and I can agree on, and not let Crichton know about it. He obviously does not think like a soldier and it is up to you and me to make the necessary decisions to make this mission successful."

"And what decisions do you think are necessary, Crais?" Aeryn had put her rifle aside again, and she stood up and walked over to him. He began pacing again, avoiding eye contact with her.

"We should land on a planet and signal Scorpius that we have Crichton and are willing to turn him in. Then we set a trap for Scorpius. He won't come in his command carrier and leave the wormhole he is studying unguarded, so he will probably come in a marauder. Talyn could easily overcome a single marauder."

Aeryn stared at him. "So, you want to use Crichton as bait. And you don't think Scorpius would be ready for something like that?" she asked him.

"He would be cautious, of course, but Crichton seems to think that we can take on a command carrier, and I promise you that plan is never going to work. You and I need to take charge of this mission, Aeryn. We can work out the details later, but we need to be united in this."

"Well, Crais, I've talked with Crichton and he is still not willing to accede to your demands. And I think whatever we decide to do, we _all_ need to be united on it."

"Fine, Aeryn, but you and I are the only ones with the necessary military training to plan this mission."

"And yet we can't agree on a plan even now, Crais. And I think if we push Crichton any further he will try to leave without us. He has made that threat on more than one occasion."

"Then we need to talk with him and make him see reason," Crais told her.

"Fine. Ask Pilot where he is, and I'll go with you to talk to him." Aeryn sat back down and began efficiently putting her pulse rifle back together again.

Crais looked uncomfortable for a moment, and Aeryn found herself wondering why. Then she realized that Pilot probably would help Crais only grudgingly - Crais had, after all, ordered the murder of Pilot's predecessor.

Crais wasn't certain Crichton would be back from seeing the informant yet, but he saw no alternative but to risk Aeryn knowing that he had deliberately diverted Crichton. He commed Pilot. "Officer Sun and myself wish to speak to Crichton, Pilot. Can you locate him for us?" Aeryn smiled grimly. He had found a way to garner Pilot's willing cooperation. Crais could be very cunning when he chose.

"Commander Crichton is still planet side. He told me he would stay for a few days, as he needed some time to himself." Pilot gave Crais the answer Crichton had wanted him to give, but had little faith in the ruse actually working.

Aeryn looked at Crais, "Why would Crichton go down to the planet? I thought you and D'Argo handled everything?"

Crais had to admit that he had talked Crichton into seeing the informant so he could have time to talk to her privately. "But he should have been headed back by now. Why would he decide to stay down there now that we have the coordinates?" he asked her.

They looked at each other.

Aeryn was up and headed out the door even as Crais shouted into his comm, "D'Argo, Aeryn and I are headed to Command. We may need you there."

"What the frell is going on now?" D'Argo grumbled. There seemed to him to be no end to the annoying problems aboard Moya.

"It's entirely possible that the Commander has started his mission without us," Crais responded angrily.

"Oh, dren," was all the Luxan said as he too left for Command.

When they got there, Aeryn checked the readings for the planet below. "Pilot, please help me locate Crichton's pod."

Pilot quietly informed her that the Commander had taken his module.

Aeryn was instantly on alert. "Pilot, I see no sign of his module on the planet. Where is Crichton?" she demanded, suspicion evident in her voice. D'Argo entered the command at that moment and she nodded to acknowledge his presence. Crais was pacing the floor - quick, angry steps that perfectly reflected his mood.

Aeryn spoke into the silence that greeted her question, "Pilot, what has Crichton done?"

Still no response. Aeryn didn't waste her breath again. Without so much as a glance at her companions she headed out the door, intending to confront Pilot in his den. Up close and personal. She would have her answers, one way or another. She didn't doubt Crichton had given them the slip. And her stomach knotted at the thought of what he was heading into. Without her. _Damn you Crichton! How do you always manage to do this to me!_

She was not the least bit surprised to find Pilot's den sealed off. Whatever Crichton had said to Pilot, it had been enough to convince him to delay them for as long as possible. Still, there were ways into the den if you were a determined Peacekeeper, and Aeryn definitely was that. D'Argo joined her in Moya's halls as she prepared to enter an access that she and Crichton had used once before to circumvent Pilot's grim determination to keep them all away from him. She suddenly realized why Pilot was helping Crichton - Pilot had never wanted Talyn to go on this mission. Aeryn was going to have a fight on her hands. D'Argo crawled in behind her, and they slowly made their way to Pilot's chamber.

When she and D'Argo reached Pilot, he told them sternly, "Moya and I do not wish to discuss this."

"I realize that Pilot. But I am concerned about Commander Crichton. You must tell us where he is! He could be killed, Pilot. I can't go through that again." She was angry with herself for the tears that welled up as she said this. She forced her emotions back into a semblance of calm and continued, "Do you really believe Crichton can defeat Scorpius on his own?"

Pilot was ready for that question. "Officer Sun, I do not believe any of you will be able to do that."

Aeryn was surprised at his forthright answer. "You may be right, Pilot. But if we do not go and help Crichton now, he may die. I can't stay here knowing that. Please do not interfere with what we need to do. Tell us where he is, Pilot. Tell us now."

"He did leave a message," Pilot contritely told her. "He said I could show it to you after you discovered he was gone." D'Argo and Aeryn looked at each other, instantly remembering the last message Crichton had left them all - when he had surrendered himself to Scorpius in exchange for Jothee's life.

"Show us," Aeryn urged him.

"I would prefer to show it to the whole crew at once," Pilot informed her. "If you will all return to Command, I will put the message on the clamshell."

Aeryn looked at D'Argo, then they both headed back to Command, comming the others to meet them. Pilot was as good as his word. After they had all assembled together, he played Crichton's message.

"I don't have a lot of time so I'm just going to make this short. Aeryn, Crais - thank you for wanting to help me, but this is my mission. My responsibility. I don't want you coming after me. No rescue attempts. I mean that. If things go bad, I won't lead the Peacekeepers back to Moya. I have the capability of ending my life and I will do it, if necessary. All of you have been good friends. I'm coming back if I can." He paused, then smiled and added, "Wish me luck!" Then the clamshell went blank, and the crew of Moya sat in stunned silence.

Crais broke the silence first. "Pilot, did you give Talyn the same coordinates you gave Commander Crichton's module?" He suspected the answer, but he wanted Pilot to confirm it.

"The Commander asked me to wipe Moya's record after I sent the coordinates to his ship, and to supply Talyn with false coordinates," Pilot politely informed him. "He wanted to have a lead of at least two solar days, in case you insisted on going after him."

"Pilot, you should not have listened to him," Aeryn told him crossly. "He needs our help. You should have told us what he was planning to do." The others could see how distraught she was. None of them even wanted to know what she would do if Crichton died. Again.

"I apologize Officer Sun. But Commander Crichton can be very persuasive," Pilot mildly responded. No one in the room doubted that statement for a moment.

"We'll have to go back down to the planet and find our informant again, Aeryn," Crais stated, a distinct note of irritation in his voice. "Pilot, did Commander Crichton meet with our informant?

Pilot responded readily, "The Commander never went down to the planet."

"Great," D'Argo interjected. "So our informant is going to be in a bad mood when we try to get the coordinates from him again. He may have even left the planet by now."

Aeryn paced the command. "Well, there's only one way to find out. This time I'll go down with Crais, D'Argo."

D'Argo and Crais exchanged looks. "Aeryn, D'Argo and I should go. He already knows us, and we'd have a better chance to..." He didn't get to finish his thought. Aeryn had already left the command. Crais hurried out into the hallway to catch up with her. D'Argo didn't bother to go after either of them. There was no point in arguing with Aeryn. Crais was just wasting his time.


	6. I can't lie to him?

  
  


Chapter 6.  
"I can't lie to him?"

  


It had been a long trip. He needed to move his muscles - he could feel the stiffness in them. But there was no way to do that before confronting Scorpius. The command carrier hung in space and looked ominous. It was still close to the wormhole Scorpius had located for study. And Linfer had been right - the wormhole definitely looked unstable. When Scorpius' science tech had escaped to Moya, she had thought she had solved the problem all the test pilots had encountered - and then she too had succumbed to the mysterious tissue liquefaction that had taken their lives. Whatever modifications Linfer had made to her Prowler had only delayed the inevitable. Rather than wait for a tortuous end to her life, she had flown her Prowler into space and blown it and herself to bits. But the alien Linfer had left Crichton with two important pieces of information - Scorpius was still alive, and he hadn't solved the wormhole puzzle. It was enough to give Crichton hope that he could stop him in time. Before Scorpius became an unstoppable threat to this galaxy. And Earth. And everywhere wormhole travel might lead him.

He knew the command carrier would have already tracked his module and Scorpius would be waiting. _No turning back now, Johnny boy._ He took a deep breath, then signaled the carrier.

"This is Commander John Crichton, requesting permission to board your vessel." He wasn't certain that Scorpius would be the one to respond. But he would have bet heavily on it anyway.

Scorpius didn't disappoint him. "Commander Crichton, how nice to hear from you again. You may, of course, board at will."

Just the sound of his voice was enough to send shivers up and down Crichton's spine. "Roger that," he replied and quickly cut his communications. He thought of his dad - about what it meant to have courage, to be a hero, to do his duty. He just wanted to get this over with, and live to tell about it. But he knew too he would do whatever he needed to do - whatever it took to stop that twisted leather-thonged bastard. He set his jaw with grim determination as he landed his module onto the flight deck of the carrier. Surrounded by the enemy. With no guarantees at all.

As he climbed down from his module, Scorpius moved forward to meet him. His various minions stayed back, one of whom Crichton recognized as Lt. Braca. Scorpius didn't mince words, "What brings you here, Commander?" Before he could answer, Mike flashed him a warning. _Tell him only the truth. He will know if you lie._

Crichton was shaken for a moment. _What the hell? I can't lie to him? Oh, this is bad. Really bad._ He quickly pulled himself together and responded, "I heard you were having trouble with the wormhole equations. And I'm tired of running."

Scorpius smiled and put his arm around Crichton's shoulders, leading him away from the flight deck. Crichton couldn't quite suppress his instinctive flinch at the hybrid's touch.

As they walked towards the command, Scorpy asked him the question he was expecting. "Who told you about the problems, Crichton, and how did you find me?"

He kept it short, "Linfer." It wasn't a completely truthful answer, but he didn't want to reveal their informant. He hoped Scorpius could not detect the half-deception.

Scorpius paused for a moment, then leaned towards him, whispering in his ear, "I want to hear more about that."

Crichton wasn't sure how much he could get away with, but he asked anyway. "How 'bout I get cleaned up and rested first, Scorpy?"

"Of course, Commander. You will find my quarters to be most accommodating." Scorpius motioned two of the Peacekeepers to come forward, and ordered them to escort Crichton. He was led away, and they made no attempt to restrain him. He didn't doubt they had reason to be confident he would not escape.

They left him on his own. Thanks to Crais he knew he could find his way to the command, and the computer where the wormhole information was undoubtedly stored. Only problem with that plan was he couldn't be sure Scorpius didn't still have the chip as a backup. Destroying the computer under those circumstances would only be an inconvenience - not a permanent solution. He had to rely on being able to get information from Scorpius, even while his adversary was intent on getting information from him. It was going to be difficult, and he knew that he really did need that shower, and some rest. He was beginning to feel numb with exhaustion. And going up against Scorpy under those circumstances was truly insane. He looked around the room - Scorpy sure had interesting decorating tastes. He apparently hadn't been told that red was not a restful color. Crichton felt a pang of longing for his quarters on Moya. And he wondered if he would ever see them again.

After showering he put on his old clothes again. No choice. It left him feeling less than refreshed, but he wasn't about to lay on Scorpy's bed in just his shorts. Bad enough he had to lay on that bed at all. He hoped Scorpy hadn't been doing anything disgusting in his quarters recently. Did command carriers have disinfectant? He sincerely hoped so.

When he finally drifted back to consciousness, he immediately sensed he was not alone. He kept his eyes closed for a few moments longer, checking with Mike. _Scorpius. He is anxious to interrogate you. He knows you are awake._ Then the little warton added a comment that surprised him, _He frightens me._ He hadn't realized his warton had feelings and emotions. Interesting. Crichton reluctantly opened his eyes. _Join the club, little guy, you are definitely not alone._ He turned his head and stared right into Scorpy's smiling face. He sat up. His head swam, and he felt groggy, as though he had been drugged. He then realized, with horror, that he was covered in a blanket, and he wasn't wearing any clothes. _ Oh hell, what has he done to me now?_

Mike was no help. He had been unconscious and drugged too. With Scorpy intently watching him, he slowly lifted his blanket, looking for any signs - needle marks, incisions, whatever. He couldn't see anything to alarm him - but then again Scorpius had put a chip in his head without him knowing about it for nearly a cycle. There were some little bruises though. A lot, in fact. He didn't know what to think about them, unless... He decided to skip the niceties and just come right out and ask. "Wha'd ja do ta me?" His speech was a little slurred - his body still dealing with the aftereffects of whatever drug he had been given. Scorpius came over to him, handing him his clothes.

"Get dressed, Crichton. We have a lot to discuss." Crichton took the bundle of clothing and slowly began getting dressed. It didn't escape his notice that Scorpius hadn't answered him. _He had his technicians go over your module - he is going to ask you about it. And he is curious about your ring. His medical technicians reported to him that it could not be removed. He wants to question you about Linfer, and he knows about Harvey._

It slowly dawned on Crichton that he was already in deep dren. _How the hell does he know about Harvey? Okay, I can understand the module, and the ring, yeah, that makes sense. And I told him about Linfer. But Harvey? How could he know I still have the neural clone?_ Mike couldn't help him - the answer wasn't in Scorpius' thoughts at the moment. Crichton shivered. The rattlers in his stomach were active again. _And did Mike say `medical technicians?' Oh, yeah. This is not good._

Mike interrupted his thoughts. _Crichton, you were given several shots. Scorpius just mentally pictured it. You were in a medical bay, surrounded by technicians. And lots of needles. I have never seen so many needles._ Yeah. And one particularly long spike to the brain. Been there. Done that. He felt the little worm cringe in his mind. Crichton knew now that Aeryn was right, he shouldn't have come alone. _Why is Scorpy doing this?_ _He already has the damn chip. What the hell else does he want?_ Things were once again going pear-shaped. In the opening act. Just like always. He couldn't feel any changes in his body. Not yet. But he knew he would. _Damn it. I thought I had time. I thought if I acted quickly enough I could change what was prophesied._ He suddenly remembered his conversation with Chiana, and his saying to her: _I'm beginning to wonder, though, if we can change anything. Every time you have a vision it happens, one way or another._

It was all he could do to retain his composure in front of Scorpius. He had done it again. He didn't doubt it for a moment. Only this time, the mental chip was probably really high-tech. He wouldn't waste time getting to the wormhole information. And he wondered if it would take monens for this neural clone to fill his world with pain, and to savagely wrest control of his mind from him again. _So how much time do I have left? And is Mike up to this?_ Was the little worm tough enough to withstand the assault on his brain? Scorpy was hitting them with too many things at once.

He turned his attention back to Scorpius as the hybrid had begun questioning him the moment he finished dressing. He had to keep reminding himself not to lie to him. That had been a surprise he really could have done without. No lying. _How is a guy supposed to cheat and steal, and not lie? Isn't that a threesome you can't break up?_ He wearily dragged his focus back to the hybrid's numerous questions. Scorpy wasn't going to let up until he knew everything. And he knew he would be back in the Aurora chair in a flash if he slipped up and lied even once, or left any question unanswered. And, of course, Scorpius was thorough beyond belief. _Hey, Mike, better activate the lockbox, 'cause baby, we are going to need it._

He had thought it would never end. He had needed to watch every word - every aspect of his answers. He could not afford to give anything away. It required enormous concentration. And he had never been so exhausted in his life. If Scorpy had even asked one more question he was sure his mind would have exploded. As it was, the drugs and the intense interrogation had left him with a blinding headache. As he lay in his cell, he told himself it couldn't be the new neurochip already. _Oh god,_ he whimpered to himself, _please don't let this be the neurochip. I can't deal with it. Not this soon. Not this fast. Not this intense._ He felt wetness under his nose. He tentatively put a hand to his face that came back covered in blood. It was starting all over again. He didn't dare to use the ring. He knew he was being monitored. His cell was cold. Nothing but a thin mat between him and the hard floor. No blanket, of course. He knew Scorpius had only let him stay in his quarters to give him a false sense of security. It had worked. He had fallen asleep, not fully realizing the danger he was in. Well, he knew now. He hugged himself and curled into a ball, trying to find some way to fall asleep. Knowing he wouldn't succeed. _Aeryn._ Her name came into his mind unbidden. She wouldn't be coming to his rescue this time. He had made sure of it. _Damn it._

  
* * *

  
  


"I don't really care what you think," Aeryn coldly told him. "We need those coordinates again, and you're going to give them to us. We'll pay you, same as before." Crais didn't dare say anything when their informant looked his way. He was well aware that Aeryn was in no mood to be argued with. He knew what she was capable of. He'd been on the receiving end. And as usual their luck had been pretty bad. They had chased this guy to two different planets, eating up precious time they could ill afford. No, he wasn't going to help this guy out at all.

Whatever sense of self-preservation that motivated their informant seemed to kick in. He had already told Aeryn this was just not done. You didn't sell the same information to the same people twice in as many days. It wasn't good for business. They didn't seem to have their dren together - how could he trust them? And he had wanted to meet Crichton, and they hadn't even bothered to respond to that request. That just wasn't very friendly, no matter how you figured it. But the look in Aeryn's eyes frightened him. He didn't even want to know what cataclysmic emotional events could make a person look like that. He decided to give them what they wanted. And that simple decision saved his life.

Aeryn was already comming Moya as she came out of the building. They headed for their pod and made it back to the Leviathan in half the time it would normally take. Time was running out. They both sensed it. It was a risk, but Talyn was willing to starburst to get them closer to their destination. Crais would stay on board, and Aeryn would take the prowler and head for the carrier. They had figured out that whatever modifications Crichton had made to his module had resulted in it being faster than they could have believed possible - considering the information they had received, and Crichton only needing a lead of two solar days. D'Argo had told them about the crate that was on board their pod when they had left Desnia. He hadn't known what was in it, and Crichton hadn't told him, but they all now believed that it had contained parts that he had used to transform his ship. She didn't know what other changes he had made, but she was determined to find out. She had a lot of questions for him, and she would get answers. Once they got him back on board Moya. She didn't let herself think that might not happen. They had to succeed. Or die trying.

She and Crais were headed to Talyn in Aeryn's prowler. They had worked together before. And Aeryn found herself wondering what it would be like now. She would never admit it to Crichton, but she didn't completely trust Crais either. She was never quite comfortable with him, never quite sure she could depend on him. But when she was with Crichton and the others, she didn't worry about it. Now it would just be her and Crais. She wanted to trust him. She hoped she could. _He'd better not betray me. We have to rescue Crichton. I need to rescue him. Crais had better not let me down._ She knew if he did, she wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

Chiana was freaking out. D'Argo tried to calm her down, but he wasn't making any headway. "He's gonna die, D'Argo. I've seen it. And it isn't Scorpius that is going to kill him - it's Aeryn!"

D'Argo stared at her. This whole thing was getting completely out of hand. "Chiana, Aeryn has already shot him. You're not having a vision of the future. Don't you see that?"

"No, D'Argo, you don't understand. This is new. This is gonna happen. I know it. I need to talk to Aeryn about this."

"If you tell her this you will upset her. She is trying to rescue Crichton. Do you really want to distract her with this nonsense?" D'Argo could feel himself getting more and more frustrated with the little Nebari. Why couldn't she understand that this meant nothing. What the frell had that Rider done to her?

"I have to tell her, D'Argo. I have to." Chiana pulled away from him and commed Aeryn.

He stood by her, knowing that he had done what he could to make her see reason, and, as usual, it hadn't worked. Aeryn answered her comm. "Chiana, what is it? Crais and I were just about to leave."

"Aeryn, I've had another vision. I have to talk to you about it," she urgently told the dark-haired Sebacean.

"Not another frelling vision." She could tell Aeryn was really irritated, but she plunged ahead anyway.

"I know this is going to sound fahrbot, but Aeryn, believe me, when I have these visions they happen. I have to warn you. In my vision, you kill Crichton. I don't know why, but you do. So you have to find a way to not do that, okay? I want you to know beforehand so you can keep it from happening. Please believe me, Aeryn. Please don't kill Crichton. Please."

"I'm not going to kill him, Chiana. I'm going to rescue him. Don't worry." She barely had the patience to try to calm Chiana down. Weren't they under enough pressure already without this _dren_? Her thoughts turned back to her mission. "I've got to go, Chiana. If we don't hurry, then Crichton really will die. Wish us luck," she added as an afterthought. _Whatever that means._

The crew on Moya watched silently as Talyn starburst away from them.

  
* * *

  
  


It didn't really matter anymore. They could do whatever they wanted. He was really past caring. He could barely be bothered to open his eyes and watch. _How many medical technicians does it take to screw in a lightbulb?_ He giggled softly to himself. Then the pain hit him, and he nearly convulsed off the table. _Frell you, Scorpy. Frell. You._

When consciousness returned, he slowly and carefully turned his head to watch the slow drip of his IV tube. Without it he knew he would have died of dehydration. He couldn't drink or eat. Couldn't keep it down. And even the thought of moving made him cringe. The pain was relentless, flowing over him in waves. He knew he couldn't take much more. His hands and ankles were strapped down. He could see the ring out of the corner of his eye, still securely on his finger. Not any help to him at all. He groaned out loud. Scorpius' head entered his field of vision. _You are definitely off my Christmas list. Ow_. It hurt to even try to smile. He gave up the attempt. It was wasted on Scorpy anyway.

"And how is our patient today?" Crichton didn't bother to answer him. He knew the nurse would do it for him. No one really expected him to do anything. Which was good, because he was having trouble just blinking. It took way too much energy. He closed his eyes and fought off another wave of nausea. He felt his IV tube move and knew the nurse was putting more medications in. Probably anti-nausea meds. _Like those have been working._ He hazily remembered coming in and out of unconsciousness for what seemed like days, but he had no way to keep track of time. All he really remembered was lots of needles, and lots of pain. And the _damn_ nausea.

He found himself remembering what Aeryn had gone through - the DNA changes Namtar had forced on her body had been far more dramatic, almost killing her in the process of changing her into Pilot's disparate species. How had she done it? How had she stayed sane? He really wished he could ask her now. He felt the tears running down his face at the thought of her. His nurse quickly wiped them off. He really was getting the best care the Uncharted Territories had to offer. Of course, he had no intention of paying their bill. And he was definitely uninsured. He was way too high risk to have insurance. He sank gratefully down into the gray mist that embraced him and slowly swirled into velvety black.

He woke again, finding himself back in his cell. This time they had given him a blanket. He must have been a very good patient. The ones that couldn't move always were. He curled up inside his blanket, being careful to cover his head. Then he pressed his ring against every part of his body that hurt. It was a long process. He hurt everywhere. He realized with disappointment that the ring couldn't completely dispel his headache. Too bad. It was in a qualifying round for an Olympic medal in pain. He was sure it would eventually take the gold. He was grateful for the bit of warmth the blanket afforded him. He slept for a while, too exhausted to worry about what they were doing to him. When his cell door opened, he felt like he hadn't slept at all. _What now?_ He couldn't struggle, or even walk. They dragged him down the corridors, finally stopping in front of his old nemesis, the Aurora Chair.

Scorpy really needed to leave him the hell alone. What could he possibly have left to ask him? What could he say that would make any difference. He had the new clone working 24/7 - couldn't he just be happy with that? Would he even survive the Aurora Chair this time? What the frell was the point of this? When the pain hit he heard Mike scream. Or maybe it was him. He couldn't tell. He tentatively opened his eyes through the haze of pain and watched his life playing out on Scorpy's video screen. Instant replay. But nothing as interesting as a football game. It was always wormholes. Scorpy really needed another hobby. _Oh, god, he asked me something and I wasn't even listening!_

"What?" he managed to get out before another wave of unbelievable pain seized his brain. This time, he paid attention.

"The Scarrens are missing a dreadnaught, Crichton. Do you know anything about that?" Scorpius was waiting patiently for his answer. He had known it would probably come to this. Somehow Scorpy always knew.

"They really should be more careful." He giggled weakly. Why did he always have to do that when he was nervous? He wondered briefly if Scorpius even had a sense of humor.

Scorpius glanced over at his technician and the pain struck again. _Guess not._

He must have set the damn chair to search for dreadnaughts. But since Crichton didn't have any actual memory of the dreadnaught his twin had destroyed, the only visual that came up was the dreadnaught they had encountered a few weekans ago. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"What planet is that?" Scorpius was talking again. _Why can't he shut the hell up?_

"I don't remember. We bought some provisions, and when we picked up the Dreadnaught on Moya's tracking system, we starburst the hell out of there." He knew it wouldn't be enough. Scorpy would insist that he remember the name. He was surprised he didn't remember it. He really didn't. Then he realized why. Lockbox. _This is gonna hurt._

The technician again upped the setting on the chair. He felt like his brain was on fire. He couldn't even catch his breath, the pain was so intense. He was really sick of this.

"Try again, Crichton. What planet is that?" Scorpius actually seemed to be losing patience with him now. And this was the guy who was always bragging about his self-control. _Not good._

Crichton didn't even remember being tossed back in his cell. All he knew for sure was his blanket was gone. He had not been a good little prisoner, so all his perks had been taken away. Except for the mat. He crawled over to it and collapsed face first into his last remaining comfort. It wasn't as soft as he remembered. Of course, his head was now pounding with pain, and everything seemed to be rose-colored. He didn't even want to know what was causing that. In defiance of all probability, he managed to doze off - despite his pain.

  
* * *

  
  


He couldn't remember when he had last seen Scorpius this upset. Lt. Braca stood at rigid attention, not daring to move. His technicians had been unable to find or identify the location of the planet where Crichton had seen a dreadnaught. And Scorpius was furious about it. He didn't believe for a moment that Crichton couldn't remember the name of the planet. But Crichton had still managed to keep the information from him. Scorpius had kept the human in the chair for as long as he dared, and still he had no tangible results. Military intelligence was waiting for the information. It was crucial that they know what the Scarrens were up to. A dreadnaught roaming the Uncharted Territories, unaccounted for - it was simply unacceptable.

He turned to Braca. "Bring him to me." The lieutenant was out the door the microt he finished the sentence. Braca was not a man to face the wrath of his superiors any longer than he needed to. 

It felt like Crichton had only just closed his eyes. What could they possibly want with him now? He was once again dragged down the corridor, barely able to keep his eyelids open enough to see where he was headed. _Oh god._ He knew where they were taking him. He almost wished he had kept his eyes shut. 

One look at Scorpius was enough to convince Crichton that he was in mortal danger. His heart beat wildly against his chest, in response to the messages his brain was now sending it. _Run. Hide. Fight._ None of that was actually possible, but his frightened heart continued pounding madly.

"Leave us." Crichton staggered as his escort deserted him. He struggled to regain his balance, and stood facing Scorpius, weak beyond belief - his body was shaking like a leaf in the wind. He hadn't had enough time to even begin to recover from his torture session. He was in desperate need of sleep. His head pounded. His eyes burned. And the rosy haze was still there. _Why can't he leave me the frell alone?_ Scorpius stared at him for a moment, taking in the pitiable creature before him.

"Sit down before you fall down." Crichton looked around. There was only the bed. He walked haltingly over to it and sank down onto it. His legs had been about to give out, he knew. He started hiccuping, and vaguely remembered reading that hiccups were a sign of stress. He wondered why he didn't have them continually.

"I have spent a great deal of time, effort and money on you, Crichton." Scorpius paused, turning to see the effect this statement had had on his prisoner. He was not pleased to see him silently laughing, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. _Am I supposed to be thanking him?_

"If I were you I would be taking me very seriously right now." Crichton looked up and pulled himself together. Scorpius was completely serious. No matter that what he was saying was totally bizarre. Maybe his cooling rod needed to be changed. He decided against inquiring about it. It was all he could do to keep from giggling. _Damn nerves._

"Have you thought of the planet's name?" Crichton sat in stunned shock, staring up at him. He thought it had been pretty obvious that he really couldn't remember the name. It was just a planet. No big deal, right? He couldn't even understand why Mike would lock the information from him. It didn't make much sense. _He needs this information, Crichton. You must not give it to him for free._

_What is Mike doing? Trying to get me killed?_

Crichton sat there on Scorpius' bed, trying vainly to remember the planet's name, hiccuping intermittently, and listening to his heart race. Time seemed to have slowed down to a trickle. And then he remembered his mission. He was supposed to find out where the wormhole information was, destroy it, and escape. He hadn't been doing anything towards that. He hadn't even thought of it for what felt like days. Okay, he had had other things to occupy his mind and body, yeah, but still he was way off course from the plan. Mike was right. He needed to make a deal. So he said the first thing that occurred to him.

"For every question you ask me, I want an answer from you." He blanched after he said it. Gazing up at Scorpius' face, he reflected that maybe saying the first thing that pops into your head isn't the best strategy. But the statement was already out there. The tension in the room actually felt oppressive. Like the air before a storm. _Hurricane Scorpius._

Scorpius smiled. It did nothing to relieve the tension. "And do you seriously think you are in a position to make demands?" Crichton sat still, not answering. What was the point? The answer to that question was pretty obvious. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Crichton couldn't give in. It was his only hope of getting his mission back on course. And Scorpius despised his pitiful little attempt to gain some control. So they sat. And waited.

Then Lt. Braca commed Scorpius.

"Sir, Peacekeeper High Command wishes to speak with you. It's about the dreadnaught, sir." A look of irritation crossed Scorpius' face. "Tell them I will be with them shortly." He turned to Crichton. "What is your question?" he calmly asked. Crichton had been thinking about that. If it was Christmas, what would he put first on his list?

"What happened to the information on the chip you stole from me?" He held his breath. Was Scorpius going to answer him? And would his thoughts lead Mike to more information?

Scorpius was furious again. But he answered him. "The chip was accidentally destroyed." He stopped, leaving it at that. But Mike filled in the gaps. _He had the chip inside his brain, and he had contacted your neural clone - who refused to help him and destroyed the encoded equations. Scorpius became so angry that the chip burned up - melting before Braca could change his cooling rod. Your neural clone burned up with the chip. Scorpius remembered only some of the codes, and he thinks only you can solve all the equations._ Now that was interesting. He decided not to wait to give his answer to the question he knew was coming. Mike had now unlocked the information for him.

"Oridur. In the system Anisan. About two weekans ago." Scorpius was comming Braca in an instant. He didn't doubt that Scorpius would make him pay dearly for what he had dared to do. But he was unable to suppress the surge of triumph he felt nonetheless. If he could destroy the carrier's computer, he could now escape without having to find the chip. In spite of all he had been through, the thought lit a small spark of hope in his heart.

His hiccups finally stopped.

Scorpius finished speaking with High Command, then turned his attention back to his prisoner. Crichton was still sitting on his bed. It was really too much effort to get up. He figured he would be dragged back to his cell any time now. But then Scorpy surprised him.

"John, you look terrible. Go take a shower and get a shave. I'll have clean clothes brought to you."

Crichton stared at him, his hand automatically coming up to his beard. It was still at the scratchy stage - but with all the pain he had been subjected to, he really hadn't noticed. Until now.

He didn't move. If this was some kind of sick joke, he wasn't falling for it.

"That is an order, Commander." He looked up. Scorpy meant it.

"Oh." He struggled to get upright, and Scorpius reached down and pulled him to his feet. He swayed for a moment, and the hybrid steadied him and helped him over to the washroom. He was still sure it was a trick. Any moment Scorpy would laugh and have him thrown back in his cell, and this time the mat would be gone too. He was just toying with him. As usual. Crichton entered the small room and closed the door behind him. He was alone. He slowly began undressing, still expecting to be hauled back out again. Still stunned that he was being treated this way after he had forced his agreement on the hybrid. He showered, shaved, and put on the clean boxer shorts and T-shirt he found laying on the counter. He felt like a new man. The mirror showed him to be too thin, with bleary bloodshot eyes, which he thought explained the rosy haze he had been seeing. Still his condition was vastly improved.

As he re-entered Scorpy's sleeping area, he saw the tray of hot food by the bed - probably Scorpy's dinner. Too bad he was all out of strychnine. He looked around but didn't see his clothes. He had no instructions. After standing for a moment, wondering what he was supposed to do, he finally slid down against the wall. It was too much effort to keep standing. He had meant to stay alert, but when Scorpy finally came back to the room he had fallen over on his side, his head towards the room's exit, sound asleep.

"Crichton." At the sound of the hybrid's voice, he started violently, waking instantly.

Scorpius pulled him to his feet. "That dinner is for you." Crichton stared at him. Scorpius gave him a push towards his meal, and he stumbled over to it. He sat down, periodically glancing at Scorpius as he picked up his eating utensils and began to eat. As he pondered Scorpy's suddenly considerate actions, he thought he understood what was happening. Basic prisoner of war training. Every military man had been warned about this. Your enemy doesn't break you by torture, cruelty, and deprivation. No, what really breaks a prisoner is sudden, unexpected kindness. Even little things could make you feel unreasonably grateful, and cooperative. Like a blanket. A Shower. Clean clothes. Hot food. Oh, yeah, it was pretty transparent. And it was working. He was grateful. And he hated himself for it. Apparently it wasn't enough to psychologically understand the effect. You were still susceptible to it. Body and soul.

He finished the meal, and a servant came and removed the tray and brought him his clothes. They had been cleaned. The servant helped him dress. Then the servant left, and he and Scorpius were alone again. He waited, knowing that Scorpius would waste no time taking advantage of his weakness. And he didn't have to wait very long.

"Let's begin another exchange of questions, per our new agreement." Scorpy had a gleam in his eye. _That can't be good._

"Ask your question first this time," Scorpy added. All Crichton's instincts went on alert.

"I don't have a question," he quickly responded. Scorpy looked intently at him.

"You're lying, John."

_Damn. Forgot about that._

He briefly thought of backing out of the agreement. It was clear Scorpius had an agenda. But it had been his idea to do this, and Scorpy would be all too happy to point that out to him. He wondered what game the hybrid was playing now. Scorpy would be a Grandmaster at chess. No doubt about it.

And there was one thing he really did want to know. Just to be certain. But was it worth the risk to ask it, not knowing what Scorpy would ask in return? It felt like Russian roulette. But then, he could do as Scorpius had done - give an abrupt answer with no details. _Mike?_ His warton told him what he already knew, Scorpius had some trick in mind. But whatever it was, it was not presently in his thoughts. _Damn._

He hesitated.

"Come on, John. We have an agreement," Scorpius prompted him.

He took a deep breath, and plunged ahead. "Did you put another chip in my head?" He dreaded the answer.

Scorpy kept it short. "Yes."

He couldn't believe the effect that one word had on him. Outrage welled up inside and he struggled to push it back down and keep his composure in front of Scorpius. Maybe Crais had the right idea. _This guy needs to die._

Scorpius waited for a few moments, and then pounced. "My question now, I believe." Crichton looked at him and waited. In dread. Again.

"Do you know anything about the missing dreadnaught?" Scorpius smiled at him - like a cat who had caught his mouse, and had all the time in the world.

He had sprung the trap very neatly. He couldn't answer "no" - Scorpius would know it for a lie. And the opposite would therefore be true. Checkmate. They stared at each other for a very long time. Crichton suddenly realized even the amount of time it was taking him to respond to the question was an answer in and of itself. He had been beaten - at the game he himself had suggested they play. He had been right to think it was a mistake to say the first thing that popped into his head. He had way too many things to hide from Scorpy. He should never have started this. 

"Yes," he whispered, finally, bringing one hand up to rub his face. Not the ring hand. In his present condition he couldn't bring the ring anywhere near his head without initiating the healing process. He didn't need to look at Scorpius to know there would be a look of triumph on his face. He hadn't expected the question to be asked again after his last torture session. He hadn't seen it coming. Scorpius must have realized his chair's deficits. So he had asked his question again - a simple verification. And this time he had hit the jackpot. Mike whispered in his mind, _Don't give him anything for free._

Hadn't that line of thinking gotten him into this mess to begin with?

Eventually he dared to look up at Scorpius. "Tell me everything," was all the hybrid said.

Crichton was thinking furiously, chewing on his thumb. He finally made his decision. " I don't think so, Scorpy."

The hybrid's reaction was instantaneous. Crichton found himself up against the wall, feet off the floor, in a one-handed choke hold - an all too familiar position. One of Scorpy's favorite wrestling moves. He was almost bored by it. _Nothing new under the sun. Been there. Done that_. Scorpy would have to get back his self-control soon or risk killing the golden goose. 

He was suddenly released, and slid down the wall, collapsing at Scorpius' feet. He gasped for breath, rubbing his bruised throat, wondering what was coming next. He had made it to his hands and knees when Scorpius grabbed the back of his vest, lifted him up and threw him onto his bed. He landed face-first and quickly rolled onto his back, instinctively putting his arms up and bringing his legs toward his chest to protect his midsection. But Scorpy didn't pursue him. He stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched, obviously working hard to get himself under control. He expected any moment to see Scorpius' cooling rod burst out the side of his head. _Whoa, he seriously can't handle rejection._

"Braca." His second-in-command was in the room in an instant. Crichton found himself wondering if he had been listening outside the door.

"Get him back to his cell - _now_," he growled. He didn't need to ask twice. Braca motioned to two Peacekeeper henchmen just outside the room and they none-too-gently hauled him off the bed and dragged him down the hallway. They tossed him into his cell and slammed the door shut without bothering to check that he had survived the landing. It was time to seriously plan his escape. _While I'm still alive to do it._

He slept off and on, tossing and turning, trying to think of how he could escape, and worried that he no longer cared enough about his mission to risk his life to accomplish it. Then it occurred to him that he had heard nothing from Harvey. And the neurochip didn't seem to be giving him headaches or nosebleeds anymore. Mike informed him that he had managed to seal off the neurochip, thus inactivating it. And Harvey was occupied with trying to find a way to free the chip. Mike had thus far kept him at bay, but the periodic headaches Crichton had been having were the result of their battles for supremacy. Crichton was immensely relieved that the warton had managed to keep the chip from sending its evil tendrils into his brain, but it worried him that Harvey was trying to interfere. He sent the warton a message, _Keep up the good work. Under no circumstances are you to release the neurochip._ Mike acknowledged his command.


	7. Fly now, talk later.

  
  


Chapter 7.  
"Fly now, talk later."

  


This time they didn't drag him anywhere. Scorpy had come for a home visit. Crichton realized that he had begun to think of his cell as his safe little haven. Now Scorpy had taken even that cold comfort away from him. He had been laying on his stomach on his mat, not really asleep but not fully awake. As Scorpius entered, he pushed himself up into a sitting position against the wall, gazing up at his nemesis.

"Come with me, John," Scorpy told him, and waited patiently as Crichton struggled to gain his feet, then motioned for him to leave the cell. They walked down the corridors of the carrier in silence, not quite side-by-side. Scorpius led him to the computer room overlooking the docking bay. Several alien scientists bustled about, looking overworked and frantic. They all seemed upset, frustration evident in their faces and voices. All eyes turned towards them as they entered the area. Crichton found his gaze focused on the computer at the center of the room, but pulled his eyes away to memorize as many details as possible for future reference. Scorpius spoke with a scientist standing near the main computer console, who then entered some commands. Three-dimensional symbols suddenly appeared in the air, swirling in a circular pattern - the encrypted wormhole equations, or at least what Scorpius had remembered of them. He looked on in fascination - but was disappointed to find it made no sense to him. There was nothing familiar about the symbols, nothing that he even remotely recognized. Scorpius was watching him intently. Crichton reached out his hand to touch the mysterious floating symbols and Scorpius quickly pulled him away from them.

The scientist entered another command and the symbols disappeared. Then he turned aside to take care of other matters. Scorpius went over to him and they talked quietly for a few moments. Left on his own for a moment, Crichton found himself drawn to the window overlooking the docking bay and walked over to it, peering down at the technicians scurrying around a prowler. Several techs appeared to be cleaning it out - removing some sort of red liquid that reminded Crichton of Jell-O. He realized in the next instant what it must be, and backed away from the window, feeling his stomach heave. He searched the room anxiously - hoping he could find something to throw-up in, and then fell to his hands and knees, vomiting on the immaculate floor. Scorpius helped him up and quickly led him out of the room. Crichton guessed he had made an impression on the scientists that they would not soon forget. He followed Scorpius out of the room and back to the hybrid's quarters. He really was beginning to miss his cell.

They had no sooner entered when Scorpius began questioning him again. "We've intercepted communications from the Scarrens that indicate they cannot find one of their dreadnaughts. You've said that you know something about it. What do you want in exchange for the information?"

He hadn't been sure Scorpius would be willing to deal. But he had thought of what he would ask for if he got the chance.

"Let me go," he said simply.

"I'm afraid that is not possible, John. You are far too valuable. You will remain here, under my protection," Scorpius told him. 

"Oh yeah, Scorpy, my stay here has been great so far. Do Sebaceans have a word for `irony'?" He was angry and he really didn't care if Scorpy knew it.

"I am familiar with the term Crichton. Make another request. This time, something a little more reasonable," Scorpius ordered.

"Fine. No more torture, no more pain, no more needles, spikes, or anything remotely like them. I want a blanket, a shower, clean clothes, hot food and sleep - whenever I ask for them. In other words, Scorpy, I want to be treated nicely. And I want the damn chip out. None of this is negotiable." He meant it.

"The neurochip cannot be removed yet, Crichton. It must reach the wormhole information first," Scorpius told him. "And the medical technicians have not yet completed their work."

_Crap._

"Then I guess we have no deal, Scorpy. Can I go now?" They were at an impasse. He saw no reason to stick around.

"No, John, you are staying here until we resolve this." Scorpius motioned him to sit down. On the bed. Again. This was getting very old.

It was going to be a long night.

  
* * *

  
  


"Aeryn, you cannot go after Crichton by yourself."

"You're my backup Crais. If I don't return in three solar days it means I've failed, and I will need you to use Talyn to blast the carrier - making sure to destroy the wormhole computer information or we'll never get Crichton to agree to escape with us."

"I am, of course, willing to do that for you, but Crichton has been in the hands of Scorpius for six solar days. What makes you think there will be anything left for you to rescue?"

"Crichton is alive, Crais. Scorpius won't kill him. And if I can get him out of there without endangering Talyn I will do it. I have to at least try."

  
* * *

  
  


"I need your help, John." Scorpy waited, but Crichton just sat on the bed, looking straight ahead, carefully avoiding eye contact. His head thrummed with the familiar pain of yet another intense headache. _More sibling rivalry between Mike and Harvey?_ Scorpy continued speaking, "That pilot whose liquid remains you saw was the twenty-seventh pilot I have sent to his death." Now Crichton did turn his head to look at him.

"So what do you want me to do about it? You've already got your neurochip busily digging around in my head. You know I can't access the damn wormhole information myself. What the hell are you expecting from me?" He held Scorpius' gaze for a moment, then looked away again.

"I want you to work with my scientists, review the information we've gathered, study the encrypted codes I showed you. This is in your best interests too, John. Unless you learn how to use wormholes for travel you will never return to your home." Scorpy had walked over to him and was now standing directly in front of him.

"Do you think I'm stupid, Scorpy? The last time you got what you wanted from me you left me for dead. I don't expect you to treat me any differently in the future." Crichton looked down at his hands, the floor - anywhere but at his annoying nemesis.

"That was a miscalculation I assure you I will not make again." Scorpius added just the right touch of sincerity to his statement. Crichton guessed that Scorpy actually did regret his decision. Scorpius had no doubt figured out that he should have taken the human scientist with him, thereby saving time - and maybe even the lives of twenty-seven pilots. Theoretically. _Could'a, would'a, should'a._ It was comforting on some level to know that Scorpius was capable of making glaring mistakes.

Scorpius was still waiting patiently for his response.

Crichton gave a short, bitter laugh. "Well, you've already told me I'm too valuable to let go. So what you're basically telling me is we're stuck with each other until one of us finally kicks it. And guess what, Scorpy? I'd rather be dead than help you." This time he looked directly at his enemy.

"And what about your friends, John? Would they rather be dead too?" Scorpius asked menacingly.

The threat hung heavily in the air between them. Crichton looked away again. Eventually it always came down to this. Moya's crew - _my friends_ - in danger again because of him. He needed access to the computer to destroy the wormhole information - this would actually be an ideal arrangement. And would it really be a problem if he looked at the data Scorpy and his scientists and untold arns of intensive work had accumulated? The temptation was there, whether he wanted to admit it or not, to obtain information he could, perhaps, not afford to ignore. _Would it really hurt to just take a look? How else can I get in a position to be allowed to test pilot the wormhole myself?_

He made his decision. "Fine. But I want your word that you will take no action against my friends." Even as he said it he knew he could not believe any promises Scorpius might make.

"Of course, John, you have my word," Scorpy replied. When Crichton looked up, Scorpius was smiling. Then he added, "And now, John, we need to get back to the matter of the missing dreadnaught."

_Oh, God, it's never going to end._ His head began pounding in earnest. 

Scorpius had had enough time to work it out. "I assume what you know about the dreadnaught was not from an eyewitness account. If it had been, my chair would have revealed your knowledge. Therefore, someone relayed the information to you - probably not one of your shipmates, since they travel with you." He paused, then took an amazingly accurate guess, "Crais?"

Crichton tried to keep from reacting, but Scorpius was highly attuned to his every movement. "Crais, then," was all he said.

Crichton felt his heart racing in his chest. _I just betrayed Crais!_ At Scorpius' comm signal, two guards entered the room and escorted him back to his cell. _Of course, Scorpy will insist on an eyewitness account - and Talyn's recording._ The stand-off was abruptly over. It was small consolation to him to find that he once again had a blanket in his cell.

  
* * *

  
  


Aeryn's prowler smoothly joined in with the numerous other prowlers on maneuvers currently surrounding the carrier. She had to carefully time it so the appearance of her prowler wouldn't be noticed. Her spacecraft had traced a smooth trajectory over the top of the wormhole, thus blocking the carrier's tracking so she could become one among the many without attracting undue attention. As long as she behaved as a Peacekeeper she should not be noticed. And Aeryn knew how to behave like a Peacekeeper. She knew this ship inside and out - old familiarity helped her fall right back into habits that had served her well in her life as a soldier. Her life before a certain human had entered it and changed everything forever. Even pretending to return to that life was somewhat painful

As she effortlessly landed her prowler in the carrier's docking bay she, spotted Crichton's module. She knew under normal circumstances any rescue of Crichton would involve him insisting on escaping with the module. But she was prepared to abandon it if necessary. It's exact duplicate was, after all, still on board Talyn. And if Crichton wanted to upgrade that module as he had done to this module he could do so after he was safely back with his shipmates. Her plan was straightforward - locate him, break him out of his cell, and hightail it in her prowler back to Talyn. She was not going to allow him to talk her into anything else. For once he was going to just do as he was told.

She knew the carrier's layout and where Crichton would most likely be imprisoned. No one questioned her right to be in the corridors - her demeanor and the weapon she held with the authority and the ease of familiarity were enough to convince the carrier's inhabitants there was no reason to question her or impede her progress. Security was lax aboard the carrier - most efforts were directed at keeping undesirables out - and constantly changing assignments ensured that she would be unlikely to meet any Peacekeeper soldiers who would recognize her.

She glanced in each cell until she finally found him. He was laying on a mat, and appeared to be in an exhausted slumber. Aeryn pressed a small explosive device against the door and stepped back while it demolished the lock. She had the door open, and Crichton was already on his feet and moving towards her, and she was searching for the cell's monitor. In an instant she had blasted the monitor with her pulse pistol and motioned Crichton to follow her as she exited his cell. He moved into position in front of her and she held her gun to his back, as though she was just following orders and taking the prisoner to another location. They met only a few soldiers in the nearly empty corridors and no suspicions were raised. They were back in the docking bay in a matter of microts, and climbing into her Prowler. She was amazed that Crichton made no complaint as she prepared the prowler to head back out into space, leaving his module behind. Her comm crackled to life and she was not the least bit surprised to hear Scorpius' voice.

"Officer Sun, I congratulate you on your well-executed commando rescue mission. However, I am afraid I have to insist that you stop this nonsense and return Crichton to me immediately." Aeryn smiled grimly. Scorpius wouldn't fire on her - not with his precious prisoner on board. And if Scorpius thought she would just bring him back then he could frelling think again. She flew out of the docking bay at full power - her tailblast serving as her only response.

Scorpius continued after a few microts, "Commander Crichton has undergone some DNA changes, but his body has not yet stabilized. If he does not return so that I can complete the DNA manipulation, his primitive immune system will reject the changes already initiated, and he will die. You can, of course, verify this with your passenger."

There was a long pause, then Crichton told her, "He's done something to me, Aeryn. I don't know what."

Aeryn frowned and turned off her comm. "Is he telling the truth? Will your body reject the changes?"

"Maybe, but I don't care. Just get me out of here, Aeryn, and we'll worry about the details later." His voice sounded strained. She turned to look back at him. His nose was bleeding and he was holding his head.

"Crichton, has he put another neurochip in your head?" She was shocked beyond reason at the thought.

"Aeryn, just get me away from here. I'll be fine," he grated between clenched teeth.

"Crichton, you are _anything but fine!_" Aeryn persisted. "What is going on?"

"All right. Scorpy put another chip in my head, but we can deal with that later too. I just want out of here, Aeryn. So just ignore that leather-thonged nightmare and keep going, okay?" He put his ring up to his head, and the blue glow began working its magic - he was definitely feeling some let-up in pain. He thought it was actually Harvey trying to stop his escape this time. Mike confirmed it. _Sic him, Mike. I don't have time for this right now._

Aeryn watched him for a moment, and then turned back around, concentrating on escaping the pursuing prowlers that Scorpius had sent, and thinking hard about what she should do. Sadly, she came to the conclusion that the decision was completely up to her - Crichton was in no shape to help. She felt a brief chill - a grim and vivid reminder of her previous rescue of Crichton. That attempt had resulted in her plunging to an icy death.

She made her decision.

"Aeryn, what are you _doing?_" Crichton was pressed hard against the hammond side of her prowler as she brought the ship about in a 180 degree turn. "No, don't go back! Aeryn, Scorpius knows about the dreadnaught. He's going to question Crais. We have to warn him!"

Now Aeryn was furious. "How could he know about Crais? You said you wouldn't reveal anything under torture. So how did he find out?"

"Fly now, talk later. I promise, Aeryn, it's not gonna go like before. I'm going to get this chip out right away, and we'll deal with the DNA thing at the same time. But please, turn around, blow these guys off, and get us the hell out of here!" Crichton was looking out the co-pilot's window, and realizing that they were nearly surrounded by the carrier's prowlers. They needed to break free soon or they wouldn't be able to at all. He could completely trust Aeryn's piloting skills as long as she stayed focused on them. And right now she was way too distracted.

Once again Aeryn did a 180 turn followed by every maneuver she knew to shake off the pursuing spacecraft. She was relieved to see that the carrier remained by the wormhole - Scorpius' other obsession. And if any of these prowlers did manage to stay with her, that was just fine with her. Talyn would destroy it when she got back with Crichton. 

"Are you okay?" she asked him worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just keep going, Aeryn." He relaxed against his seatback and tried not to think about what Scorpius had said. There would be plenty of time to think once they made it back to Talyn. He had failed. The partial wormhole equations were still in the carrier's computer. He would only stay long enough to warn Crais.

And then he would have to find some way to go back and complete his mission.

The two prowlers that had kept up with her were not willing to stay and see if Talyn's weapons were operational. They took off, no doubt relaying Talyn's position as they sped back to the command carrier. Aeryn commed Crais that she had Crichton, and he needed to get Talyn ready for starburst. She had no sooner landed than the Leviathan put a vast distance between them and the Peacekeeper carrier.

As they entered Command, Crais turned towards them. "Crichton, you are looking well."

Crichton snorted. "Considering I've been in Scorpy's lair, Crais?"

The ex-Peacekeeper didn't mince words. "Yes."

"Well, it was an interesting vacation, but now I'm ready to get back to work. Hate to have to tell you this, but Scorpy knows about the dreadnaught." At the look of alarm on Crais' face he continued, "Well, not any details. Just that it's missing and the Scarrens are puzzled by it. Obviously they aren't going to even be able to find a trace of it, from what you guys said. The bad news is, Scorp figured out that I didn't see any of it, and came to the conclusion that you must have." At Crais' questioning look he added, "Don't even ask me how he does it - the guy can't read minds but he does do a good imitation of it. So you and Talyn are back to being targets," he finished. "And," he added, "the Dreadnaught we saw near Oridur is probably either looking for Talyn or for the missing dreadnaught. Either way, we need to stay sharp."

Crais began pacing Talyn's command deck. Crichton looked over at Aeryn and found her looking back at him. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, and was just about to check with Mike when he remembered he had ordered the warton not to reveal her non-mission thoughts to him. After a moment's hesitation, he went over to her.

"Thanks for bringing me back," he told her, smiling.

She turned away from him, then suddenly swung back to face him, her hands on her hips, and her eyes flashing with anger. "Was it worth it, Crichton? Is the universe safe from wormholes now? Are we safe from Scorpius? What exactly did you achieve by ditching me and Crais and going off by yourself?" Crichton stepped back a little at the verbal attack she had unleashed. He had to think a moment before he answered her, and he noticed that Crais had stopped pacing and was also waiting for his response.

"Okay. I did get some information. Scorpius hasn't solved the wormhole problem. I saw the liquid remains of one of the 27 pilots that have died being test dummies for him. And Scorpy is convinced that only I can solve the equations, so he'll keep after me as long as he still needs my help. I also found out the neurochip was destroyed, and Scorpy can't remember all that was on it. That's why he put another chip in my head." He paused, and Crais sucked in his breath at the realization that Crichton's mind was once again under attack. "Other than that, you were right, Aeryn, I couldn't complete the mission on my own. I didn't manage to destroy his computer and I'm going to have to go back." He looked at Aeryn and then at Crais, "I could use your help, if you both are still willing." He waited.

"Tell Crais what else happened," Aeryn said. He gave her an exasperated look. He hadn't planned to mention anything more to Crais. It was bad enough that he had told him about the neurochip. Crais had tried to avenge Aeryn's death by overtaking and destroying Scorpius' marauder after it had fled from the Ice Planet. It was now obvious to them all that Scorpius had remained on the planet below, and had used the marauder as a decoy. The whole incident couldn't help but raise unpleasant memories for them all. And he wondered if Aeryn and Crais would even be able to trust him now - knowing that a neurochip was again messing with his mind.

"Aeryn..." he started, looking uncomfortable, putting his hand up to rub his face.

"No, Crichton," she turned away from him. "Tell him everything."

He stared at her back for a moment, and then reluctantly began telling the ex-Peacekeeper captain about the medical technicians, and the needles. He skipped over the parts he didn't want to talk about, or even think about again - the pain, the fear, the realization that he could never go home again. Saying it out loud would be more than he could handle. Just thinking about it was too much.

"What kind of DNA manipulations? You don't look any different," Crais finally spoke.

"Yeah, well, it's the Human/Sebacean thing, Crais. I'm not going to look any different, but inside and on a cellular level I'm not human anymore. At least, not totally. I don't know what percentage we're talking here. Scorpius hasn't mentioned and I haven't asked. I guess Jool can figure it out for me later. And since Aeryn sprung me before he finished the project, apparently my body may reject what he did to it. Scorpy says I'm still `unstable' somehow. He mentioned that it could kill me." He stopped talking, realizing suddenly that he was ready to drop from exhaustion. The stress of the escape - added to his ill-treatment at Scorpy's hands - had suddenly become too much for him to bear. He looked again at Aeryn and she still had her back to him. He shrugged and told Crais he was going to shower and get some sleep. "Let me know if you need me for anything." As he left the command he wondered what they would say behind his back. _They are both worried about whether they can trust you now,_ Mike told him. _And Aeryn is afraid you will die on Talyn - just like your twin._

_Great._ He knew he couldn't comfort her. She might be right. If Scorpius was telling the truth, Crichton's survival would depend on the ring. They weren't exactly in a position to go looking for a medical center, and Jool was a long ways away on Moya. It seemed like he was always up a creek without a paddle.


	8. Anything you say can and will be held ag...

  
  


Chapter 8.  
"Anything you say can and will be held against you."

  


"So you want Talyn to use his cannon to destroy Scorpius' computer?" Crichton had finally caught up on his sleep enough to go and find Crais and discuss what their next move should be. "If we are captured, Crichton, Scorpius will find out everything your twin did." Crichton looked around Crais' quarters as he thought of his reply.

"I know that, Crais, but if we don't stop him he'll keep coming after us anyway. We have a chance to destroy his research - he's gonna look really bad to High Command if we do that. And I know you want his head on a pole, but as far as I'm concerned I just want to know that this guy isn't going to have power over us anymore. Dead or disgraced - I'm happy either way."

Crichton walked over to Crais and put his hand on his shoulder. "It's a hell of a risk, I know. But we don't have a choice now. He already knows about the dreadnaught, Crais. You think he's not coming after Talyn anyway?" He cocked his head to the side and peered up into Crais' face. "You make the first move and you get to be in control of the situation. Trust me, you don't want Scorpy running the show."

"What about you? How are you going to deal with what he's done to you?" Crais actually looked concerned. Crichton felt almost touched by it.

"I'm not going to do anything about it until we get back to Moya. Jool can check me over, find out how bad the news is, and then we can decide what to do after that. For now, I'm just going to ignore it." He added, as an afterthought, "If I can. Either way, you guys can always lock me up if I get weird on you. You have the advantage in attacking Scorpy, Crais. He can't fire back without worrying that he might kill me. As long as I'm on Talyn he can't just blast us to hell. We go in, convince Scorpy I'm comin' back, he opens the doors, then we blow the damn computer and we get out again. Easy."

"And what is Plan B, Crichton?" Crais looked at him, "You must have a backup plan."

"You go through with turning me over to Scorpy in exchange for your freedom, Crais. That is, hopefully, a last resort. Aeryn, Talyn, and you have priority over me - and I mean that. If it looks like everything is going south, then you make the decision. I don't want Aeryn to do it. I don't think she can."

Crais nodded. He knew Aeryn was incapable of putting Crichton in harm's way to save herself.

  
* * *

  
  


"Crais, we need to talk," Aeryn told him as soon as he entered Command. He raised his eyebrows. Aeryn seemed angry, but he didn't think he had done or said anything to anger her.

She turned to look at him. "You and Crichton are planning on attacking the command carrier, is that right?" Crais slowly nodded, wondering what she would say next.

She looked directly at him, "You will stay focused on the objective, Crais, and if you do any thing more or less than destroy the wormhole computer, you and I will be enemies again. Do I make myself clear?"

Crais was instantly annoyed. "Crichton said we could kill Scorpius if the opportunity presented itself, Aeryn," he reminded her.

"And the opportunity will not present itself on this mission, Crais. Scorpius commands that carrier and if he dies they will feel free to destroy Talyn and us. I expect you to keep that in mind." Aeryn looked at Crais intently. She found herself hoping Crais would not discern that her main motivation was to ensure that Crichton could return to Scorpius if necessary - if Scorpius had been telling the truth, and if Crichton's life really did depend on the hybrid finishing what he had started.

Crais bowed his head towards her, "Of course, Officer Sun. I assure you I will follow the mission plan to the letter." He strode off Command, stiff-backed with anger. He knew she was right, but he still had a hope that Scorpius would somehow be in the line of fire. Or near enough to it.

Aeryn watched him leave. With Crais thirsting for Scorpius' blood, and Crichton under the influence of the neurochip again, she knew she would need to be ready to take control from either or both of them.

  
* * *

  
  


Aeryn navigated their approach to the carrier. When they were within comm range, Crais opened the channel.

"This is Captain Bialar Crais, I wish to speak to Scorpius."

"Scorpius here, Captain."

"We have Crichton on board, Scorpius. Whatever you have done to him, it is clear he cannot survive for much longer. If you guarantee us save egress, we are willing to let you have him back."

There was a pause, then Scorpius spoke again, "I will send a prowler to dock with Talyn. You have my word that Talyn will not be pursued, as long as Crichton is delivered to me unharmed."

Crais looked at his companions. Their relief was visible. "I think you already know that he is not in good health, but that is not our doing. We await your prowler." Crais closed his comm and then walked over to Aeryn. "As soon as those doors are open enough for you to get a clear shot, take it," Crais told her.

They watched as the doors slowly opened. Aeryn quickly maneuvered Talyn into position directly in line with the docking bay. They could now clearly see their target.

"Talyn, ready your cannon. On my command," Crais ordered. Crichton was relieved to see that the scientists weren't in sight. Then he saw him. Scorpius, standing not too far from the computer.

Crichton swung around to Crais. "Don't kill him, Crais. Just aim for the computer!" he shouted at Talyn's captain.

Crais looked at him and said one word, "Fire!" They all watched as Talyn's cannon demolished the computer and everything around it. Scorpius was blown back, but Crichton didn't think he had been injured. He wondered if the hybrid had evacuated the room at the last minute when he detected Talyn's cannon priming. He didn't have much time to ponder the matter, as Aeryn had already turned Talyn around and was headed back into space, using the wormhole's position to her advantage.

Several prowlers discharged from the carrier's docking bay, intent on pursuing the armed Leviathan.

Talyn's comm sprang to life and they all listened as Scorpius told the prowlers to hold their fire, and then demanded again that Crichton be brought back. "Do not take this lightly," he warned them. "Crichton's life depends on me finishing his DNA manipulation. Do not let him die - return him to me immediately!" His guttural growl made Crichton shiver. He looked over at Aeryn, and was relieved to see that her concentration was fixed on navigating Talyn.

None of them felt any need to respond.

Talyn starburst the moment they were free of the wormhole.

Crichton wondered if he would forever remember it as the only plan that had gone as expected in his entire sojourn in the Uncharted Territories. It felt so good to blow Scorpius off, leaving the sick and demented lunatic ranting and raving behind them. And with his mission finally accomplished he felt a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. He had to admit, though, that the whole thing would have felt a lot better if he hadn't begun to suspect that Scorpius had told the truth. His body was feeling worse by the microt. He knew he was running a fever, and was only barely keeping it under control with frequent use of his ring. They had probably been able to surprise Scorpius only because the ring was slowing Crichton's deterioration. But he knew that would not last, and keeping his condition from Aeryn was proving more and more difficult. Every time he glanced at her he saw her looking at him with suspicion in her eyes. He had lost his appetite, and when he forced himself to eat anything he had trouble keeping it down. Fortunately, the few times he had actually thrown up he had been alone in his quarters. He knew he couldn't keep it from her much longer. She was watching him like a hawk.

The confrontation came sooner than he was expecting. He had just left Talyn's mess, where he had actually only played with his food, when Aeryn met up with him in the corridor. He was headed for his quarters, so he nodded at her and attempted to walk on by, but she put one hand out and grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Tell me what's going on," she snapped as she noticed his arm was hot to her touch.

He pulled his arm back and turned and smiled at her. "Nothin', just headin' to my room." He started to walk away again and she swung him back around and pushed him up against Talyn's wall. He realized with shock that he couldn't get out of her grasp - he was weaker than he had thought.

"You're lying, Crichton." He blinked at her - that had sounded too much like Scorpy. Although he could only wish Scorpius was so easy on the eyes. He smiled to himself, and then focused back on Aeryn, who was now getting really angry.

"Hey, calm down. Okay, I'm running a little fever - no big deal. I was gonna go lie down for a while. Happy?" He peered into her face and got his answer. She was definitely not happy.

"You just came out of the mess - what did you actually eat?" she questioned him in a sharp and angry tone.

He paused, and she pounced. "Nothing, right? You aren't eating, you're running a fever, what else?" She was definitely in his face now.

He didn't know what to say. It occurred to him that the phrase "Anything you say can and will be held against you," definitely applied to conversations with Aeryn. Especially when she was in this kind of a mood. He tried several times to start an answer and finally ended up just shrugging his shoulders. _I wonder if she'll let me have the right to remain silent._ They stared at each other for a few microts, and then Aeryn leaned into his face and told him, ominously, "This is not over." _Nope._

She reeled away from him and stomped off down the corridor - headed towards Crais' Command. He figured he might not be getting that nap after all.

No sooner had his head hit the pillow than Crais commed him. "You're needed in Command, Crichton." He seriously doubted that was true. Aeryn and Crais would soon be telling him what to do and exactly how to do it. There would be no "command" decision they would now be willing to let him make. He briefly considered blowing them both off. He really did need some rest. But then he knew they would move their meeting plans to his quarters - and he really didn't think that would make the situation any better. He groaned to himself, then answered his comm, "I'll be right there." He was annoyed to find that his head was now pounding. For once, he didn't assume the headache was caused by the damn chip. Ducking under his blanket, he let the ring ease back the pain just enough so he could think clearly again. His hand shook as he brought it back down to his side, and he laid back against his pillow for a few microts longer, waiting for the weakness to pass. And he promptly dozed off.

The next thing he knew, Aeryn was shaking him awake.

"Oh, Aeryn, sorry, must'a drifted off for a while there," he groggily shook his head and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Were you deliberately avoiding me?" she asked him, point blank.

"No. Of course not. I just meant to rest for a few microts, and I fell asleep." He looked at her with bleary eyes, and Crais wondered how Aeryn could doubt his word. It was obvious the man was exhausted.

"I don't believe you," Aeryn practically hissed at him. Crichton slowly shook his head. _I do not need this right now._

He tried explaining it again, "I didn't ignore you or Crais, I just fell asleep. I didn't do it on purpose, Aeryn." He looked over at Crais, but the ex-Peacekeeper was carefully avoiding eye contact. No help there. He turned back to Aeryn, who looked like she was loading up with more verbal ammunition.

Then she took aim. "So, you're so exhausted now you can't stay awake even if you want to?" She was good. He knew some law firms who could use her services.

"Fine, Aeryn, have it your way. I'm not doing very well right now, and we both know why. So let's cut to the chase. I'll have Jool check me over as soon as we get back to Moya. And in the meantime I need you to cut me some slack. I don't think I'm going to be worth much for helping out around here." He yawned and rubbed his eyes again, looking longingly at his pillow. He really wanted to just lay back and fall asleep again. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so bone-tired.

Aeryn was now more concerned than ever. Crichton admitting that he wasn't feeling well could only mean that he was gravely ill. She knew he would carefully hide anything less than that from her. And Scorpius had said he could die from this. She came up to him and put her hand on his forehead. He was burning up. And his eyes glittered with a feverish glaze. Her heart lurched in her chest.

"Crichton, I don't think we should take you back to Moya. If you're feeling this terrible already, then I think we know Scorpius wasn't lying." She glanced over at Crais, "I think we need to take you back to the command carrier. Now." At his look of alarm, she added, "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to do."

"No. No _frelling_ way am I going back to Scorpy, Aeryn. _Absolutely not_. My mission is over! And I'm not going to even consider going anywhere until I find out if Jool can help me." He had jumped up and was now pacing the floor in agitation. He found himself worrying that Aeryn was going to keep pushing him until he ended up making promises that he was certain he'd regret. He began chewing on the side of his thumb.

"And if she can't help you?" Aeryn asked.

"Then we cross that bridge when we come to it." He wasn't going to promise anything. _There are some things worse than death._

"What's that supposed to mean, Crichton? If Jool can't help you, then you have to go back to Scorpius - you have to let him finish what he started. You are not going to just _die_!" Her heartbeat quickened at the thought. She was not going to lose him again. He was going to have to accept that. Crichton stopped pacing and looked at her. Then he turned and looked at Crais. He wondered if the ex-Peacekeeper captain could be counted on to back him up if he needed him to. He began pacing again.

Crais was beginning to wish he was anywhere else. He could see that Aeryn was determined to force Crichton into doing what she wanted. He didn't dare interrupt them, but he felt like he was going to end up in the middle of this argument and he really wanted no part of it. He had no sooner had this thought then they both turned to him at the same time.

"Crais," Aeryn started.

"What do you..." Crichton asked at the same time. They both stopped speaking and looked at each other. Then they both tried to speak again, and Crais put his hands up.

"I'm going back to Command. You two can work this out and let me know your decision. I want nothing more to do with this." He looked at them both, making sure they knew he meant what he said, then he left the room and headed back to Command.

"I want you to promise me..." Aeryn started, and Crichton practically yelled at her, "No, Aeryn. I'm not promising anything!" He covered his face with both hands. She went over to him and pulled him down beside her on the bed. He was shaking, and she took his blanket off the bed and put it across his shoulders, pulling him up against her for warmth. He felt like an oven. They sat like that for a long while. Finally, he started talking. 

"Don't make me go back to him, Aeryn. If Jool can't help, then I want you to end it for me."

"No, Crichton. You can't give up," she whispered in his ear, rubbing his back and pressing him up against her.

"I can't do it, Aeryn. I can't go back to him. You remember how you felt when you thought you would die of heat delirium?" She nodded.

"Well, that's how I feel, Aeryn. You said then that a friend would kill you, and a relative would do it quickly. If Jool can't help me, if I have no other choice but to go back to Scorpy, I want you to kill me." He was hunched over now, the picture of despair.

"No, Crichton, you aren't going to just frelling give up!" Aeryn was angry with him now.

He turned to stare at her. _She's not going to agree to do it unless I really piss her off._ And he knew just what buttons to push.

"Fine, Aeryn. You always know best. I'm wasting this conversation on you anyway. You're not a relative or even a friend anymore, right? I'm just a member of Moya's crew to you. You and my twin had the love thing going on, but you and me - nothing. I need to find someone who gives a damn about me. And there's no one on this ship that qualifies."

Aeryn was off the bed and facing him in an instant, her pulse pistol drawn and pointed at him. She didn't even have time to think. He couldn't talk to her that way. He knew nothing of what had happened between her and his twin. Nothing. How dare he even mention it to her! She was trembling with fury. Then she realized he was looking back at her with utter calm. And she understood what he was trying to do.

She stared at him, remembering what Chiana had said she had seen in her vision. Aeryn knew she had almost done it. She shuddered. Then she knew she wouldn't do it, not just because Chiana had begged her not to, but because she had gone through Crichton's death once before and would never willingly do it again. She lowered her weapon and sat back down next to him, taking several deep breaths.

"You have to understand one thing, John." She had called him John. He turned to look at her. "I have nothing in this universe that I care about more than you." He pulled away from her. "No, Aeryn, don't..." he began, and she put her hand up to his lips to stop him. "I can't lose you again, please don't do this to me," she pleaded with him. He made the mistake of looking into her eyes, and he was lost. _This is hurting her terribly. Oh, God, I can't do this to her._ He closed his eyes, waiting for her to say what he knew was coming. "Promise me that you won't give up, John. Promise me. If Jool can't help you, you have to agree to go back to Scorpius. You have to promise me that you will do that." She waited, watching his face as he struggled to control his emotions. She knew what she was asking him to do. It was more than she had ever asked of him before. And she would not leave his side until he agreed to her demand.


	9. We are destined to be together.

  
  


Chapter 9.  
"We are destined to be together."

  


Aeryn looked expectantly at Jool. She had just come into the ship's medical lab, and Jool was now ready to tell the gathered crew members what her latest examination had revealed. "Scorpius didn't lie," she began. "Crichton's body is in flux and his major systems can't cope with it. The fever, congestion, nausea, and weakness - they're all signs that his body is rejecting the changes caused by Sebacean DNA. His organs are starting to lose their ability to function. I'm not even sure how he is managing to stay alive." Their eyes all turned to the IV dripping fluids into his body. He hadn't been able to eat or drink for two solar days. He was deteriorating right before their eyes.

Aeryn spoke first, "Can we get him to a medical center?"

Jool looked over at her, "Even if one was nearby I couldn't promise you that they could help him, Aeryn. He's part human part Sebacean now, and only Scorpius knows what he's changed and what still needs to be done. I don't even know how much time he has left, Aeryn. And I've already tried everything I can think of. Scorpius has obviously done a great deal of research mapping out the incremental changes to Crichton's body - making sure that he doesn't do too much or too little at a time - keeping a careful balance so that Crichton's body will accept the changes without sending him into toxic shock. He has a high-tech medical facility and medical technicians to monitor Crichton and compensate for any unforeseen emergencies. No one in this universe has really studied human physiology - but Scorpius has obviously put a great deal of time and effort and money into this project."

At her choice of words, Crichton flinched. He lay on the medical table, still in boxer shorts and T-shirt from Jool's examination. He shivered, and D'Argo came over to him and covered him with a blanket. He smiled his thanks, but his eyes revealed to his Luxan friend the terror he was feeling.

"So there's nothing we can do?" Aeryn asked.

Jool shook her head. "I don't think there are any options left."

Aeryn sighed and walked over to him. "You know what this means, right?"

"Can I get a second opinion?" he asked, looking and sounding miserable even as he spoke. He attempted a weak smile, but was racked by painful coughing for several microts, and curled up, turning away from her and holding his stomach. She reached for his shoulder and pulled him back until he was facing her again. "I'm sorry," was all she said, as she took his hand in hers. It distressed her to see the glazed look of pain and fear in his eyes. His skin burned under her fingertips. Crais came over to stand by her side.

"I'll get Talyn ready," he told them both. He started to walk away, but Crichton called out to him.

"We have to play this smart, Crais." He paused to cough, and then continued, "I'm not risking you guys this time. We need to find a planet where you can drop me off. Then you signal Scorpius to come get me, and starburst out of there." He began coughing in earnest again, and they waited for him to get it under control. Aeryn leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Use the ring. You have to hang on, John." He nodded at her, and she watched as he pressed the ring against his chest, under the blanket where the others wouldn't see the blue light. He looked so vulnerable. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes and hurriedly turned away. He didn't need to know the effect this was having on her. It was too soon for her to deal with this again - she couldn't. _You have to survive!_ Aeryn promised herself that she would stay by his side as long as she could - she wouldn't let him wait for countless arns by himself, weak and ill, for his enemy to come and retrieve him. She couldn't do that to him. She hurriedly left the room with Crais, wiping at the tears on her face with the back of her hand.

  
* * *

  
  


She came with him down to the planet. He had tried arguing, but she had been determined. And he was too weak to put up much of a protest. Some part of him needed her to be there, he knew. And he was not proud of it. He didn't want to be selfish - not with her. They stayed in a highrise apartment on a commerce planet that looked like all the others Crichton had visited. Lots of strange aliens, lots of wheeling and dealing. No Peacekeepers though. And no Scarrens. As near as he could tell. He'd had enough dealings with both to last him a lifetime. And it wasn't over yet. Crais had given him some shots from Talyn's medical kit to help with the nausea. They were working, for now. He was able to eat a little, and was feeling better. But he knew it wouldn't last. He wondered for the umpteenth time how the hell he was going to be able to go through with it. His hatred and fear of Scorpius seemed to fill his mind, leaving no room for anything else. Except her. And the thought of being torn from her side when he needed her most was unbearable.

Crais had agreed to let them spend a few solar days together. _Our last days together?_ He didn't want to think like that, but he couldn't stop himself. He turned to look at his companion. They lay side by side on the room's only bed, and he had to admit to himself that no matter what else happened, he was grateful that she had been willing to open up to him. She still had a lot of painful memories of his twin. They had talked about it - her feelings, his feelings - everything out on the table. Nothing hidden. And it had been a tremendous release for them both.

And they had made love. She had been so tender with him, and they had both felt so vulnerable. He had told Mike he wanted to know what Aeryn was thinking and feeling - he didn't want any misunderstandings to spoil his time with her, and the Dom had been right. Knowing just what she wanted and liked made the experience even more incredible. It nearly broke his heart, though, to realize that she was so afraid they would have no future. He had considered telling her that he had seen a glimpse of their future - and it was good. But he wasn't completely sure he believed it himself. Still, it gave him hope, and a man could keep going for a long time on less than that. She stirred beside him, and then snuggled up against him, content for now.

Above all, she had told him she wanted him to survive - to come back to her no matter what. He had to promise that over and over again. She couldn't hear it enough. She would passionately kiss him, and then make him say it again. He'd lost count of how many times he had told her he'd come back. Nothing would stop him. He'd find a way. As he lay in the dark, he told himself it was all true. He would come back to her. No power in the universe could keep them apart. _We are destined to be together._

And he had demanded some promises from her in return - she would not try to rescue him. She was to come nowhere near him. It was too dangerous. And neither of them knew how long it would take for Scorpius to finish his DNA manipulation. They had no way to plan any rescue - any time table would involve too much guessing. She knew it was true and sadly accepted it. The second promise he had exacted actually made her smile. He had given her an assignment she was more than happy to carry out. He knew that it would keep her busy and focused on something other than what was happening to him. And it was important. Not just because of the wormhole knowledge, but also so Aeryn could resolve some lingering issues. He reminded her that his module was still on board the carrier. And he reassured her, again, that he could get out - she needed to trust him. But he still couldn't tell her how he would do it.

Their time together had been so fleeting. As they made love again, and for the last time before she had to leave him, they talked only of their hopes and dreams - they were determined not to let anything spoil their last precious moments. She still had the vial from the Royal Planet; when Scorpius was done with him they would have to verify again that they were compatible. He wanted a family, lovingly assuring her that she would be a wonderful mother. She wanted to live among other Sebaceans - somewhere like the Royal Planet, where they would be safe from Peacekeeper intrusions.

He tried to memorize everything about her and their stay on this world. He knew he would need to call it to mind often to give him the strength he needed. One last kiss, one last long lingering look, their hands touching until the last moment, and then she was gone. She commed him one last time - she was on board Talyn and they were preparing for starburst. Her voice quavered, and he knew she was valiantly holding back tears. He gave her the promise again, and then he was by himself. On a world populated by millions of other beings. He had never felt so alone in his life.

He realized he couldn't stay in their room with her gone. He considered moving to another, but he finally ended up moving to another highrise altogether - in another city on the planet. He didn't want Scorpius to sully any of his memories of his time with Aeryn. He didn't doubt the hybrid would find him. And it would not be a happy reunion. His first night alone he fell into a restless sleep, haunted by feelings of helplessness, curled up in a bed too large for just himself. Missing her. Crying out in his sleep and tossing and turning. Sweating and freezing. Pulling blankets on and off again. Feeling utterly miserable.

It was two solar days before Scorpius arrived. Crichton had begun vomiting after his restless night of sleep, unable to stop retching even when there was nothing left. Any movement at all started it all up again. He hardly left his bed the entire time. Too weak. Too ill. Too much pain. It felt like a violent flu, but knowing that it was nothing of the sort somehow made it much worse. He was using the ring all the time now, but it wasn't making much difference. Or, it might have been much worse, and he just didn't have anything to compare it to. Either way, it hardly mattered to him. He just needed to stay alive long enough for Scorpy to get to him. Long enough for his med techs to start working on him again. Long enough to get blessed relief through an IV tube. He actually found himself longing for it.

  
* * *

  
  


They burst into his room. He made the mistake of lifting his head to look, which started the retching again. The room spun crazily as they yanked him off his bed, dragging him out the door and down the corridor. Scorpius was waiting by the elevator - he had wondered if he would come for him personally. A gurney was inside the elevator, and he was unceremoniously heaved onto it and strapped down. The nurse who cared for him previously was back again, checking his pulse, looking up in concern at the hybrid. She gave him a shot and then he felt nothing more, as he sank gratefully into the black void.


	10. His jokes were as bad as ever.

  
  


Chapter 10.  
"His jokes were as bad as ever."

  


He really didn't want to hear it again. Scorpy didn't seem to be able to stop himself though.

"You should have listened to me, John. You almost died. The wormhole knowledge you hold in your mind is far too valuable for you to be so careless, especially now that you have destroyed my data." And variations thereof. It had become almost a litany. And he was sick of it.

His body convulsed again, and it was all he could do to not scream. Pain was his constant companion while he was awake. And he only slept when the nurse drugged him into unconsciousness. He understood now how patients could fall in love with their nurses - they held the keys to oblivion. There were now guards everywhere he looked. Scorpy had become paranoid. Crichton grimly smiled - he could not sit up without help, much less make an escape attempt. The guards were hardly earning their pay. Another wave of nausea hit him and he closed his eyes and tried to think about Moya and his friends. And her. _Hang on, babe, I'm comin' back_. He hoped they were all safe. The carrier was on the move again - now that he was on board they had no reason to remain by the now dangerously unstable wormhole. Scorpy had told him his friends would not be able to find him this time. Med techs came in and out of his room constantly, always with more needles. He wondered how far off schedule he had put Scorpius' project. His experiences before had been nothing like this. Now it seemed to go on endlessly, and it didn't take him long to completely lose track of time.

They were walking him around again. He still was too weak to walk on his own. Scorpius sat patiently in a chair, waiting for them to finish. More interrogation. Lucky him. Not questions like, "Seen any new dreadnaught's lately?" but more like, "How does your body feel now? And now? How about now?" He wondered if Scorpy was writing an article for some Peacekeeper medical journal. Or maybe submitting a new recipe - how to turn a bland human hors d'oeuvre into a sizzling Sebacean sidedish. He laughed softly. At least Scorpy hadn't managed to kill his sense of humor - his jokes were as bad as ever.

The med techs walked him over to the side chair near Scorpius, and he sat down, once again completely exhausted by the little effort required of him. Scorpius had explained that most of his body's energy was directed at making internal changes. He didn't like the sound of that. Had Scorpius left anything untouched inside him? He still couldn't bring himself to ask about percentages. Jool had stunned him to silence when she had mentioned he was more Sebacean than human. He hadn't dared to ask her for specifics. And that was before all of this. Would he now be subject to Sebacean heat delirium? Had his lifespan been shortened or lengthened? Did Scorpius even know all of what had been done to him, or were the changes more random than that? He really needed to ask him. He really did. And he knew he wouldn't. Not yet. Not until he was stronger.

And maybe not even then. 

Crichton was just starting to relax, thinking he knew what to expect and that it was all fairly boring, when Mike interrupted his thoughts. _Scorpius has plans for you. He has left your heat regulatory system intact - he wants to create a race of Sebaceans resistant to the heat delirium. He thinks of you as his best chance to do that._ Crichton found himself shaking, and his nurse was instantly at his side, putting a blanket over his legs and checking his temperature. He knew they were still worried that his body would do something they weren't expecting. Any sign of illness, and he was right back in bed, the IV tube in place, with 24/7 monitoring of his vitals. He felt like a guinea pig. Or a pincushion. And now Mike had told him he should be feeling like a prize bull. He decided it was time to get some answers.

"Why have you done this to me?" The question surprised his captor.

"Why the sudden interest, John?" Scorpius asked him in response, and he found himself searching for a truthful answer that would not give away his little mind reading warton.

"I can't figure it out. You said it involves a lot of time, effort and money, and it doesn't get you any closer to the wormhole information. In fact, you put my life at risk yourself. You had to know I would try to escape and that I might do it before you were finished with the changes you were making." He decided to put some of the blame back where it belonged. He had heard Scorpy's little tirade too many times while he had been too weak to defend his actions.

Scorpius looked angry for a moment. Crichton gave himself a mental pat on the back. But then Scorpius gave him his answer.

"You have been able to survive travel through wormholes and thus far Sebaceans have not. I need you to solve the tissue liquefaction problem for us, which you won't have an incentive to do unless you are under the same restriction. Your species is also very frail - I can't afford for you to die before I am able to obtain the wormhole equations from you - regardless of how long that takes or how many neurochips I need to employ for the purpose. Your lifespan has been greatly increased by this procedure. When it is complete, you will live at least 150 cycles longer than your human lifespan would have allowed for. And previously, if you were injured for any reason, my medical technicians might not have been able to save your life with their limited knowledge of your human physiology. Once this process is complete, my technicians will be able to medically intervene on your behalf as necessary."

Crichton doubted if the increase in his lifespan would mean much. It was intriguing, especially with the plans he and Aeryn had made, but considering his high risk lifestyle, he didn't put much stock in it making any real difference. He was still uninsurable in either universe. And knowing that Scorpius was prepared to throw one neurochip after another at him only further solidified his determination to destroy the madman's military career. He waited, wondering if Scorpius would reveal the other reason. There was silence for a while, then Scorpius continued.

"And, frankly, there is one aspect of your physiology that holds great interest to me personally. You have a gland within your body that regulates your temperature in a way that would be quite useful to Sebaceans. Of course, since most Sebaceans have a rather anal retentive view of racial purity, your seed can only be used to ensure that a small portion of Peacekeeper spies - special directorate agents and frontline soldiers - will be able to infiltrate into areas that would normally incapacitate them." He leaned back and smiled at Crichton, satisfied that his impeccable reasoning process could only be admired by his prisoner.

Crichton stared at him, wondering just what method his captor intended to use to obtain his "seed." He decided not to ask. He hadn't heard of any sperm banks in the Uncharted Territories, which left only one rather old-fashioned method of dissemination. The process wasn't complete yet in any case, and when it was he wasn't going to be hanging around long enough to become involved in any horizontal Peacekeeper liaisons. He thought briefly of the method they had employed on the Royal Planet - maybe it would be something sexless like that. He fervently hoped so. On the other hand, if that was the method, would he ever know all that they ended up doing with his DNA? He certainly hadn't known that the Royal Planet geneticists had used it to ensure their queen would become a mother, incidentally making him an absentee father. He suddenly realized he might live to see his child now. And with the changes in his body, he might even be able to withstand undergoing the process again that had originally turned him into a living statue. Not that he would, of course. Katralla had chosen her mate long before she had met him, and he knew he would do nothing to change what had happened.

Crichton was relieved that Scorpy had managed to answer a question he hadn't asked. There were still parts of him left that were exclusive to him and his species. Since the love of his life was Sebacean, his only real regrets about the changes to his body were that they were painful, he had to spend way too much time with Scorpy, and he could not return home now - even if he still wanted to. Sebaceans hadn't cornered the market on racism. Not by a longshot.

  
* * *

  
  


Scorpy had begun yet another project. Crichton decided he was definitely an overachiever. Just as he was finally beginning to feel strong enough to actually be awake during the day, and able to walk around a little without help, the hybrid began forcing him to listen to tapes 24/7. Not music tapes. Oh no, that would be too much to ask. He was being forced to listen to and memorize Peacekeeper procedures, manuals, protocol - you name it, he was a student of it. He knew that Scorpy and his scientists were still frantically trying to retrieve some of the lost wormhole information - he had overheard some of this from the scientists that periodically came to talk to Scorpius while he hovered over his prisoner, involving himself in every detail of the DNA manipulation project. But Crichton hadn't expected to be personally involved in any knowledge gathering activity that didn't relate to wormholes or genetic engineering. He couldn't see the purpose for it, and since it was mind-numbingly boring, he complained about it. Not to Scorpius. That would have been stupid. But he did complain to his nurse, and possibly one or two guards, he didn't really remember. Only, as he should have known, Scorpius eventually found out about it and confronted him.

"It has come to my attention that you are unhappy with your Peacekeeper studies." Scorpius didn't bother with "Hi," "How are you?" and other pleasantries. And he didn't wait for a decent hour of the day, either - choosing instead to wake Crichton in the middle of his sleep cycle, when he was far too groggy to be careful with his wording. And he always needed to be careful. He could tell Scorpius was displeased with him. Very. And that disturbed him. He could not at all see the reason for it. He took off his headset, shutting down the tape, as he groggily sat up in bed. In the meantime, Mike was filling him in on the hybrid's thoughts. _He is trying to convert you, Crichton. He wants you to learn more about the race you have joined, thanks to the changes he has initiated in your body. He wants to train you to be a Peacekeeper, and thereby gain your willing assistance. He sees this is a very viable alternative to forcing you to aid him._

_Crap. Scorpius never gives up. `If at first you don't succeed, try, try again, and keep trying until your quarry goes_ Stark. Raving. Mad._' must be his motto._ Crichton tried to focus as he desperately searched for a way to get himself out of this situation relatively unscathed. Scorpius was a long-term planner, which Crichton admitted to himself could actually be good. For one thing, it meant that he expected Crichton to still be alive and useful to him in the long-term. But not if he didn't start at least pretending to cooperate with the plan. He sucked in his breath, ready to deliver the usual conciliatory B.S. that he had been known to give to a teacher or two in his youth, and remembered just in time that he had to give an honest reply. His thoughts momentarily derailed. He looked up at Scorpius and saw that he was still waiting patiently for a response. He had time, he just needed the words to say. He was really too tired for this. And that was what he finally chose to say.

"I'm too tired for this, Scorpy. I can't do it right now." He looked up at his mentor, and flinched back at the anger he saw. _Oh hell, wrong answer._

"You are not in a position to choose what you will and will not do, Crichton," Scorpy bitingly informed him. "From now on you will do as you are told, and you will do it without complaint. And, furthermore, you will henceforth take care to refer to me as Scorpius or Sir, and no variations thereof."

Crichton shrunk back in his bed. "Yes, sir," he finally thought to say, just before Scorpius struck him across the face. He was knocked to the floor, and as he painfully pulled himself back up, Scorpius informed him his response time was execrable.

"A Peacekeeper soldier does not make his superiors wait." With that comment, he turned and left the room. Crichton stared after him, wondering if this sudden change in their relationship would be permanent. He was apparently no longer to be viewed as a prisoner, per se, valuable or otherwise. He was a soldier-in-training. Low man on the totem pole in the military ranking system. A plebe. He found himself annoyed by it. He was an IASA Commander - an officer and an astronaut. He had already earned respect. But then, he wasn't anywhere near Earth anymore. So he was just going to have to suck it up, and switch gears ASAP or he would get to find out how Peacekeeper soldiers were kept in line. As he rubbed his jaw, he reflected that he had just been given one small taste of the possibilities. It was bootcamp all over again. _Just great._ He put his headset back on, and settled back down in his bed, for the first time hoping that he was able to learn quickly and thoroughly what he needed to know. So he could be a good little Peacekeeper soldier. Right up until he went AWOL.

As he drifted back to sleep again, one more thought occurred to him. _Know thine enemy._ It was education for free - just like the military back home. He decided he'd better not waste it.

  
* * *

  
  


They had finally located her. She had definitely made every effort to remain hidden, but Crais and Aeryn were determined to find her - no matter the cost. Aeryn had been surprised to find that Crais was nearly as anxious as herself to locate Furlow. She had thought she was the only one who had reason to want her dead. But Crais was equally determined to find her and mete out justice. Crichton hadn't specifially told her to kill Furlow, Aeryn knew. He had told her to find the rogue mechanic and then do what she felt needed to be done. But Aeryn didn't have any doubts about what her decision would be. Furlow had killed Jack. And she had stolen the wormhole weapon, resulting in Crichton's death. Verdict in. Case closed. The Uncharted Territories were pretty vast, but it was amazing how word had gotten around that Crichton had destroyed a Gammak Base and a Shadow Depository. And his name was enough to open the mouths of several informants, even without greezing their palms. Aeryn smiled to herself - Crichton's speech patterns were becoming her own, and she really had no idea what half the things meant that popped into her mind. But just thinking them was enough to make her feel closer to him. Crais had promised her he would allow her to confront Furlow on her own. He understood her need for personal vengeance.

As they landed on the planet Furlow had chosen as a hiding place, Aeryn thought again of the day when she and Crichton had walked out of a building and come back to find Jack dying. Then Aeryn had gone to help a wounded Rygel, and had joined Crichton as he ran to a dune vehicle to chase Furlow. She wasn't with him when he was exposed to a lethal dose of radiation - she had been too late to stop him. But she knew one thing: until Furlow paid for what she had done, Aeryn would not be able to rest. She owed it to him. And to herself. And as a practical matter, Furlow had wormhole knowledge that they could not afford for Scorpius to possess. Everything Crichton had done to stop Scorpius would be for nothing if Furlow's knowledge fell into his hands. Killing her would be justifiable on several levels. Not that Aeryn needed more justification. She was more than satisfied with what she had. Still, she would give Furlow a chance to explain. And not just because she knew Crichton would want her to.

She entered the hangar, her pulse rifle at the ready, moving slowly, alert to any booby traps or tricks. Furlow was capable of defending herself, Aeryn knew. She found her sitting in a chair, leaning back with her legs up on a table. Smoking a cigar. Without turning around she suddenly spoke to Aeryn.

"I kinda figured you'd be the one to come after me," she said coolly.

Aeryn moved to stand in front of her, still watching for any movement and listening for any sound that would indicate they weren't alone. Furlow noticed it. "It's just you and me, Aeryn. So, are you planning on using that thing?" She nodded at Aeryn's rifle.

"Oh, yes, Furlow, I'm planning on using it, if you give me no other option," Aeryn told her, with a smile. She looked around the hangar and saw that Furlow was attempting to rebuild Crichton's module from memory. And she noticed a large computer in the corner behind where Furlow was sitting.

"Are you going to sell it to the highest bidder again, Furlow?" Aeryn calmly asked her.

Furlow stared at her for a moment. "I didn't mean for him to die, Aeryn. You should know that. I didn't have any choices. The Scarrens and the Charrads - they don't take no for an answer. They forced me to help them. You can go ahead and kill me, but you gotta believe me - I never wanted Crichton to die. I even told him to walk away and let somebody else be the hero. But he didn't listen. That's not my fault, you know." Furlow puffed on her cigar, confident that Aeryn would believe her.

"I can't let you do this, Furlow. I'm going to destroy the computer and the module, and I'll track you down again if I have to. If you're lucky enough to survive today," Aeryn told her grimly.

They heard shots fired outside and Aeryn was briefly distracted. Furlow quickly pulled a pulse rifle out and aimed it at her. When Aeryn turned back, they were facing each other across weapons primed and ready.

"Don't do this, Furlow," Aeryn warned her. "You are no soldier. The smart thing to do is keep running, keep hiding, and keep _out_ of the wormhole business."

"I don't think you or anyone else is going to tell me what to do," Furlow replied. Aeryn saw her finger squeeze the trigger.

Aeryn ducked and rolled, and as she came up she shot Furlow. A direct hit. She made sure Furlow was dead, and then set several timed explosives to destroy the computer and the module. As she ran back outside, the explosions did their work. She looked back and saw that the warehouse had caught fire. Crais was just outside waiting for her. She noticed two dead men laying on the ground near him, dressed in mechanics clothing. She didn't even ask him about it, just gave him a nod and they both headed silently back to her prowler. She reflected as she flew back to Talyn that she truly was not a Peacekeeper soldier anymore. No Peacekeeper would have risked being killed as she had. And no Peacekeeper would have given Furlow a second chance. She was satisfied that she had avenged Jack's death, but she knew that nothing would bring him back. Or John. Still, Furlow was a loose end. A very dangerous loose end. And Crichton had been right - Aeryn needed to resolve what had happened between them. One way or another.


	11. If she dies, so do I.

  
  


Chapter 11.  
"If she dies, so do I."

  


The med techs were still coming in with needles now and then, and his vitals were still being closely monitored - in fact, he had not yet been allowed to leave the ship's medical facilities - but he could tell that the whole thing was winding down. It was getting closer to the time when he knew he would have to escape. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to his endless tapes, and thinking about Aeryn. He had just drifted off when the door to his room burst open. He was instantly alert, pulling his bedcovers off and trying to get his feet over the side, but he was just pulled up by his armpits and dragged out into the corridor. He managed to get to his feet as he was hustled towards Command dressed only in undershorts and a T-shirt. _What now?_ He frantically reviewed the last few days. _Nothing_. He could think of nothing that he had done, said, even thought, that could have caused this. So it had to be something else.

The moment he entered Command, all eyes turned to him. Mike urgently whispered in his mind, _They've captured Talyn!_ Scorpius gave an order, and Crichton was pushed into a kneeling position as soldiers handcuffed him from behind - both hands and legs, with a short chain in between - forcing him to remain on his knees. He was facing the command's forward view screen, and as he watched, Talyn's Command appeared on the screen. _Aeryn_. Chained and kneeling like he was, her lip bleeding and one swollen black eye. _Oh hell._ Then he noticed Crais, lying unconscious on the floor, both of them surrounded by marauder commandos, their pulse rifles pointed at Aeryn. It took Crichton a moment to realize Scorpius was talking.

"You have 180 microts to tell us where Talyn's missing vidchip is, Crichton, or Officer Sun will be executed," Scorpius grimly informed him. Lt. Braca began intoning the countdown. Crichton's heart began racing so fast it felt like a drum in his ears. He couldn't think. _180 microts!_. That wasn't enough time. He couldn't just tell them - they would probably kill Aeryn anyway. He needed more time. Time. _180 microts!_ Once before, he had told Aeryn she had that much time to revive him after she had administered a Peacekeeper killshot. A plan began to form in his mind, but he needed the answer to two questions: could Mike stop his heart - did he have the necessary connections in his brain - and could Crichton still be revived despite the DNA changes he had undergone? He didn't really have time to think it through. _Aeryn's life is on the line!_ He quickly confirmed with Mike that it was doable. He would have to take a chance on the CPR. He told Mike to wait for his order.

He looked at Scorpius. "If she dies, so do I. You will have 180 microts to revive me - and only Aeryn knows how to do that. If you want her cooperation, I suggest you tell those commandoes to release her and drop their rifles. The ball is in your court, Scorpy." Then he gave the mental order - _Do it, Mike!_ He sensed Mike's terror. _Trust me, Mike, just do it!_

Scorpius stared in horror as Crichton's body dropped like a stone. The hybrid was over to his side in an instant, checking the pulse at his neck. And finding none. His lieutenant was still intoning the countdown for Aeryn - it was down to 60 microts. And Scorpius was not in charge of the marauders - they wouldn't take orders from him, only from Peacekeeper High Command. He had very little time in which to act. Fortunately, he was already in communication with his superiors. He knew there was only one thing he could say that would stop the countdown. They had already witnessed what had happened on his command deck, so he didn't have to waste time explaining it.

"If this man dies, then we lose the war," he practically growled into his comm. Then Scorpius waited and watched with the others on his carrier as the marauders began dropping their rifles, one moving quickly over to Officer Sun and releasing her chains. She looked stunned, then quickly pulled herself together and picked up one of the abandoned pulse rifles.

"Over there," she ordered them, motioning with the rifle. "Now." The commandoes all moved to where she indicated. Then they all waited.

Scorpius was practically frantic. By his own mental count Crichton had 25 microts left.

"Officer Sun, if you would now please inform me how to revive Crichton," Scorpius managed to calmly request.

Aeryn had just enough presence of mind to think it through. "Not you. Lt. Braca." At Scorpius' questioning look she added, "I don't think Crichton would want you to do it." Scorpius stepped aside for his second-in-command. He was irritated, but there wasn't time to argue. Aeryn gave Braca the instructions. "Take his chains off first." She waited as a soldier stepped forward with the keys and quickly complied. "Okay, now you have to lay him out on his back and then you have to straddle him. Yes, like that. Okay, now do fifteen chest compressions - put your hands on his chest, yes there - no, a little lower. Yes, that looks right. Too fast Braca - slow it down a little. And push harder. Not too hard - you'll break one of his ribs! Okay, now two breaths. Hold his nose closed. Now do the compressions again. Okay, now two breaths. Keep doing it until he starts breathing - no matter how long it takes."

The lieutenant broke into a sweat as he worked feverishly to follow her instructions. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he got it wrong. Why hadn't she let Scorpius do it? It didn't help that all eyes were on him, including Peacekeeper Command's.

After what felt like ages, Crichton took a rasping breath and Braca quickly moved off of him, letting him turn to his side. Crichton began coughing and struggling to get air into his oxygen starved lungs, and he rolled over onto his hands and knees. Then he seemed to remember where he was, and looked up. Right into Scorpius' face. He quickly turned away, slowly standing up and seeking out the forward view screen - desperately needing to know what was happening to Aeryn. He was relieved to see she was in charge on Talyn's command. He then noticed that Crais was still unconscious. _What the hell happened to them?_ Mike supplied one word, _Clorium._

_Hey, Mike. Glad to see you made it._

Crichton turned back to Scorpius for a moment. "We need to deal," was all he said. Scorpius nodded, and Crichton took a few moments to think and then continued, "I don't trust any of you. So here's how it's gonna go down. First, those commandoes are gonna get the hell off of Talyn. Then, we all get to wait around until Crais wakes up. When he says Talyn is ready for starburst - and I mean not surrounded by Peacekeepers so he actually can starburst - then I tell you where the vidchip is. The only variations to this plan will be ones that I approve - or we have no deal."

He looked over at Aeryn, "Does this work for you?" At her nod, he crossed his arms, waiting for Scorpius' response, and then looked down, suddenly remembering he wasn't dressed. "Oh, and somebody bring me my damn clothes," he added with a little embarrassment. One of the soldiers quickly left, at Scorpius' nod, and they all waited until he came back with the clothing. As he began dressing, right there on the command carrier's command deck, he added, almost as an afterthought, "By the way, who revived me?" He looked around and Lt. Braca stepped forward. Crichton felt instant relief that Scorpius hadn't been the one to do it. He reached over and shook Braca's hand. "Thanks." And then he finished getting dressed.

  
* * *

  
  


Aeryn watched him in amazement. _How did he do that?_ Crichton had said he could end his life if he needed to, but she had no idea he had meant it like that. And he had commanded everyone around him - undressed. And in chains. She loved it when he took charge. _He is so amazing_. And she was so hopelessly in love with him. Again. Only this time, he was coming back. Not like before. Not just to die in her arms. He had looked healthy and whole - even well-rested. She hoped it would last. She wanted him in good physical condition when he returned. She smiled to herself.

They had waited several arns for Crais to wake up. She wanted him to know she had kept her promise to him - but she couldn't say anything. He had just looked at her, holding up two fingers with a questioning look on his face, and she had nodded. _Yes, I kept the second promise._ She was sure no one had understood the silent exchange between them. He had smiled at her - and she knew that he would want all the details. And it would be her pleasure to give them to him. After he came back to her. Only after he came back.

  
* * *

  
  


It felt good to be back. To walk on a planet again. To be off the damn command carrier. Of course, he hadn't meant to be coming back quite so soon, but such were the vagaries of life. He looked around, and it seemed nothing had changed since his last visit. It had just been a quick decision on his part. Nothing that well thought out. But he was fairly sure he'd be coming back anyway. So why not leave it here? Was it really all just part of his destiny - which seemed to in some way be tied to this planet? _Desnia_. He wondered if Scorpy would even be able to get through the gate - he couldn't imagine him being able to even say the words. _Has Scorpius ever meant no harm to anyone?_ Crichton sincerely doubted it. He looked up at the sky. _Does lightning really strike liars?_ He was disappointed to find the sky was clear.

Scorpius had questioned him relentlessly about what he had done on the carrier's command deck. He had told the hybrid that when he was under extreme duress he had the ability to stop his heartbeat. But he could tell Scorpius didn't quite believe him. Still, he had stopped asking him about it. And doing it again was rather pointless - Scorpius knew now how to revive him. Still, if he was going to try it, he had picked a good time. Aeryn and Crais had been able to escape, and it had been enough to humiliate Scorpius in front of Peacekeeper High Command. But he knew it was a temporary triumph at best.

Scorpius began walking towards the gate, and Crichton's guard pushed him forward. He wondered if the globe would turn blue on him again. He really needed a low profile this time. He hoped no one on Desnia would try to help him - he didn't want anyone here to suffer Scorpius' wrath. It was bad enough that he had to. He thought back to his last trip. As he and D'Argo were leaving, once again traveling in the hover car, the thought had occurred to him that anyone associated with the palace would probably be willing to help him. He tapped the shoulder of the guy in the front seat. "Loram, isn't it?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, your Highness, I am Loram."

Crichton smiled at him. "Good, uh, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Anything, your Highness," Loram bowed his head a little as he replied.

Crichton leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

"I would be happy to do that for you. I know just where to hide it," Loram responded.

It had been that easy. After D'Argo had started walking towards the gate, temporarily leaving him behind with Loram, he had asked him where he had put it. Loram showed him. It was perfect. Crichton had given him a handshake and a fervent "thanks" and then he and D'Argo had headed back to Moya in their pod.

And now he was back to retrieve it - accompanied by Scorpius. Just as the scrolls had said. But he hadn't really believed them at the time. Scorpius had reached the gate and was making his statement. And then he stepped through to the other side. Crichton shrugged. Must have a glitch in the system, or more likely the whole thing was merely a formality. But he had been led to believe otherwise. He found himself puzzling over it as he made his own statement. He looked anxiously at the globe for any sign that it would turn blue, and there was nothing. He sighed in relief and joined Scorpius on the other side. He looked around and was surprised to find that nothing looked like it had before. He could see no tall buildings, no palace in the distance, and very few people milling about. In fact, it looked a lot like the outside of the gate. This was nothing like what he had seen before. He turned back around as the guard came through the gate and walked up to stand by his side. Crichton waited for a moment, wondering how the hell he was going to be able to find the hover car, and then he caught sight of Loram standing just a few metras off, right beside the hover car. As though he knew he would be needed. Which, Crichton reflected, he probably did. He headed towards him, Scorpius and the guard following closely behind.

As he reached into the hover car and pulled off the decorative disk covering the steering column, revealing the hidden vidchip, he found himself wishing it could be otherwise. Scorpius didn't deserve to have this. The universe wasn't safe from him and his ilk. And Crichton didn't want to be the one to make Scorpius look good in high places. In fact, he had hoped to be able to ruin Scorpy's career, not hand him the proof he needed to convince the Peacekeeper powers that be that he was indispensable to them. His prior humiliation, when Crichton had forced the Peacekeepers to free Talyn, would now be quickly forgotten in the face of this new success. Scorpy reached out and grabbed the vidchip from him, and the soldier pulled at his arm, forcing him to go with them as they headed back towards the gate. He consoled himself with the thought that at least he had saved Aeryn's life. And he had paid Crais back what he owed him - not only for the attack on the wormhole computer, but for letting him have those two days of heaven with Aeryn. He closed his eyes. It felt like a lifetime ago. Then he opened them again and looked around one last time before he stepped back through the gate. He was still puzzled by the change in appearance of the inner city. But then he found himself thinking of the Dom telling him they could hide. Apparently they could. Very well, in fact.

  
* * *

  
  


He hadn't seen it before - Crais had told him about it, but he had gotten rid of the vidchip on impulse, before he had been able to bring himself to watch it. _My twin died from this._ It was like watching a scifi movie - it felt completely unreal, but then, he hadn't actually experienced any of it himself. And although he wished he could have destroyed the damn thing altogether instead of holding onto it as insurance, he still found himself fascinated. _My twin did all that? While he was dying from radiation exposure?_ Crichton could hardly believe it was possible. He could physically feel Scorpius' excitement - it radiated off him in waves. He was surprised, in fact, that the hybrid's cooling rod hadn't needed changing yet.

This was what Scorpius had wanted. Not just wormhole travel, but a wormhole weapon capable of mass destruction. Mike had told him Scorpius' thoughts as they had sat watching the recording privately in the hybrid's quarters. Scorpius had replayed it over and over again. He knew the interrogation would begin soon, and he wasn't looking forward to it at all. Scorpius would have a lot of questions. _Lockbox._ He was both grateful and frightened that he had the ability to hide information.

Scorpius finally got up and stopped the machine, pulling the vidchip out and putting it somewhere on his person - Crichton didn't see where. He had never wondered before if Scorpius' leather get-up had any pockets. Picturing himself frisking the hybrid was a mental image he could have done without. _Does the guy ever take off his leather zoot suit?_ He was putting his money on "no."

"You and I had an agreement earlier, that you had proposed," Scorpy began. Crichton almost snorted. _Oh, let me guess where this is going._ He kept quiet. Barely.

"I am willing to continue with that, rather than simply force answers out of you. Which I can still do," he added ominously.

"Yeah, I know," Crichton nodded curtly.

"My turn, I believe," Scorpy calmly stated. Crichton nodded again.

"Is the wormhole information the Ancients gave you still accessible to you?" He hadn't known what Scorpius would start with, but this was one question he felt safe answering.

"Nope. I can't touch it. Just like before." Now it was his turn. He had given some thought to what he would ask if Scorpius proposed this method of questioning. But he really didn't believe the hybrid would stick with it. Sooner or later he would lose his temper. He always did.

"What will you do with the wormhole information, if you can get it to work?" This question required a longer answer than Scorpy had been willing to give him in the past. He wondered if he would give him a thorough response. Scorpius stared at him a moment. Then he began speaking.

"I believe you think I see this is a way to abuse power - to control beings in this part of the universe and possibly others, including your own." He paused, and Crichton sat very still, neither admitting nor denying it. "The truth, however, is simpler than that. We are severely outnumbered by the Scarrens. And they are a threat that cannot be taken lightly, John. If they conquer us, we will not simply be imprisoned or forced into slave labor. They are determined to eradicate us - our entire race. Our civilization with all its knowledge and history. And I know whereof I speak. I was not raised as a Sebacean. I lived among Scarrens, learning of them firsthand and in painful detail. And although you and I have never discussed my personal life, you should know now that I am determined to stop them. Not just because of their threat to Peacekeepers and Sebaceans, but because I hate them for what they have done to me."

Crichton was taken aback. He had never expected Scorpius to reveal so much about himself. But Scorpius' answer had ignored one salient point. The hybrid was not the only one who would have access to the information, and he certainly would not have sole control of its use. Crichton didn't think Scorpius would give him any more details, but he had to ask anyway. He had to know what moral assumptions Scorpius operated under. _If any._

"But can you accept responsibility for what others might do with the wormhole knowledge, regardless of what your own intentions are?" Crichton asked.

Scorpius appeared to be upset by his question - at least he got a stronger reaction than he had been expecting. Mike told him he had inadvertently raised the specter of an incident Scorpius had with the Crichton neural clone - generated in the neurochip in essentially the same manner that Scorpius' personality had created a neural clone in Crichton's own mind. The Crichton neural clone had destroyed the encrypted codes shortly after having a discussion with the hybrid which had been remarkably similar to the one they were having now. He remembered what Mike had told him about that. His neural clone had not survived the encounter. He wondered if he would.

"A scientist, John, cannot be held responsible for how the knowledge he is instrumental in obtaining will be used. But he must seek it out, that is what he is trained to do, letting those who will use it make the determinations which he is, ultimately, not ideally suited to make. We do not live in this universe alone, depending on only our own abilities. Each of us is given different talents, different strengths and weaknesses. A true scientist will seek knowledge for its own sake, and step aside to let others ponder its best use." Scorpius had begun pacing the room as he spoke.

"But you aren't planning to just step aside," Crichton pointed out. He rose to his feet and he added, in an accusatory tone, "and you're hardly just a scientist - you're also a military strategist. You can't tell me you haven't already thought about exactly how you're going to attack the Scarrens with the weapon you and I just witnessed in action."

Scorpius swung around to face him. "_You_ put that weapon in action, John. You are not even a being from this part of the universe, and yet that didn't seem to stop you from making a decision that would affect us all. Did you stop to ponder the consequences before you did that, or did you simply choose to act, letting the consequences be damned," he practically spat at Crichton.

They both stood and stared at each other for a moment, their heavy breathing the only sound in the room.

Crichton finally responded, "The Scarrens would have killed them, Scorpy. My friends. I didn't have a hell of a lot of choice at the time. And not much time to ponder, either. But you think about this, Scorpius. Your precious Peacekeeper High Command has a pretty piss-poor track record of using power judiciously. Do you really want the wormhole knowledge in their hands?" He turned away from the hybrid and sat down again, putting his hands to his face as he hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees. He knew what Scorpius had said was true - he doubted if his twin had done much pondering. Crichton knew himself to be a man of action. Although he was also a scientist and a military man - as was his nemesis - what made him different from Scorpius was his moral beliefs. And their beliefs were worlds - no, he corrected himself - galaxies apart.

Scorpius stared at him, and then said, "I believe it is my turn now, John. And you will answer me with complete honesty." Crichton looked up at him. Had Scorpius been able to tell that his response was not completely truthful? Or was his comment just a coincidence? Crichton had decided not to mention that he had a twin, and had responded as though he himself had done the things they had recently viewed together. Mike told him Scorpy was unsure if he had lied. Crichton finally asked the little warton if he knew how Scorpius was able to tell truth from lies in the first place, and his warton told him Scorpius could see the energy signatures of other beings - signatures which altered when they lied. Crichton immediately remembered figuring out as a child that his friends could not beat him in arm wrestling if they lied to him during the competition. Somehow lies seem to drain a person's strength - he didn't understand it, but there it was. He had concluded, as an adult, that truth was an actual physical power. As a child, he had simply used the knowledge to take advantage of his opponents. They had never suspected that he was manipulating them. He brought his attention back to the hybrid as he began speaking again.

"How was your wormhole knowledge activated and then deactivated?" Scorpius was looking intently at him. He thought of deceit and tangled webs and he knew that the lies he had been weaving were starting to unravel. He figured he was about to find out just how much deception he could get away with

"I don't know. All I do know is that Jack - you remember him? The Ancient that posed as my father? Well, he came back. He did something to me, touched me or something, and next thing I knew I was able to understand stuff. It was a gradual process, and he must have locked it up again afterwards, because I can't access it now." He looked at Scorpius as he finished, and knew right away that he hadn't passed the truth test. He took in a breath to calm himself and waited to see what the hybrid would do.

"You're lying, John. I warned you about that. Try again," Scorpius admonished him.

He felt like a gradeschooler. At least Scorpy hadn't rapped his knuckles. He thought for a moment about what he should say. Right now, he was afraid that Scorpy would conclude that he could access the information. He needed to at least make sure he straightened him out on that score.

"I can't access the information," he said again. Scorpius nodded. Then he asked, "Were you ever able to?"

Crichton looked at him for a moment, then gave up the deception. "No."

They stared at each other for a while, then Scorpius said one word, "Explain."

Crichton stood up and began pacing the room. "Okay, it's weird, and I really thought it would be easier not to mention this, but I guess I'm going to have to just tell you." He looked over at Scorpius and he was still intently watching him. "It wasn't me. In the module. I didn't create the wormhole or destroy the dreadnaught. I didn't do any of it. When you and I watched Talyn's little video, I was seeing it for the first time. Same as you. Me and some of the crew from Moya had to make an emergency landing to make some repairs on our pod, and we ended up trapped in a Leviathan prison ship. The Leviathan was dying, all the Peacekeepers left on board were starving. The ship's Pilot was being eaten by these poor wretches - it was really a sick scene. And one of the prisoners had this ability to twin things. People. I don't know. He had some kind of gun that he pointed at you and then next thing you knew you were staring at yourself. Another you. We did some DNA studies when we got back to Moya, and there was no difference between my twin and me. Nothing we could quantify, anyway. This prisoner had said he made exact duplicates. It wasn't a cloning process. Don't ask me how he did it. From a scientific point of view I'm still going, `No way, Jose.' But it happened to me, and, hell, when it happens to you, you kind of have to be a believer." He trailed off, looking back over his shoulder to see how Scorpius was reacting to his rambling story.

Scorpius interrupted him with one question, "Where is this prisoner now?"

Crichton chewed on his thumb, thinking about his response to that question. Scorpius had already berated him for taking action against the dreadnaught. What would he think about what he had done to the Leviathan? Scorpius was still waiting. _How do I manage to get into these situations?_

He decided to try explaining what he had done, without actually coming right out and saying it. "We had some pretty bad experiences on that ship. We were all scared silly. We didn't know for a long time what was even going on. And this prisoner scientist was really insane. I mean, he was freaking insane. He had taken over the ship - we couldn't get out unless we got back some control. I tried helping the Pilot do that, but then he was killed. I thought my shipmates were dead. I figured it was up to me to do what needed to be done."

He paused and Scorpius asked him, "And what did you think needed to be done, John?"

Crichton looked at him. Then he slowly answered, "I initiated starburst. The Leviathan was still in a control collar, and the stress of starburst blew the Leviathan and everyone left on board to hell and gone." He closed his eyes at the memory.

He waited for Scorpius to say it.

"With the wormhole information, and this twinning process, we could easily defeat the Scarrens. You, however, have managed to kill the scientist who invented the twinning process, and the wormhole information is still locked in your mind, inaccessible even to yourself," Scorpius hissed at him.

Crichton stared at him. Then he said, "Yeah, that about sums it up." _He is angry with you,_ Mike told him. _You think?_

"Remind me, the next time you and I have a philosophical discussion Crichton, how it is that you are so much better at making judicious decisions than Peacekeeper High Command." Crichton flinched a little at that. _Okay, low blow. But maybe I had that one coming._ The moral high ground could be damn hard to hold onto.

He faced Scorpius, making sure the hybrid was looking right at him, and told him, "I did the best I could under the circumstances. You weren't there. You don't know what it was like. I'm still alive to tell about it, and believe me that was not a given. You tell me I'm too careless with the wormhole information. Would you have preferred that this guy suck my brains through his little sippy straw? Because believe me, that was his plan. I got out of there, along with my friends, and I did what I had to do to survive. I can live with my decision, Scorpy. I am living with it. And my twin died of radiation poisoning after destroying that Scarren Dreadnaught. So there's only one of me again."

He decided against mentioning that the twinning process wasn't 100% undetectable. Kaarvok, the prisoner he had told Scorpius about, had told D'Argo that after thirty to forty times the original became defective. All the Peacekeepers on board that Leviathan were insane. Not just Kaarvok. Crichton had thought about that a lot. It was entirely possible that Kaarvok himself had been twinned one too many times. And if so, it was possible that the original Kaarvok might still be alive. And some or all of his other twins could be somewhere out there in the universe too. He didn't want Scorpy to figure that out. So he didn't give him enough information to work on it. He hoped. _Scorpy can reconstruct a whole building from a single block of information._ Crichton suddenly remembered telling that to Aeryn. He hoped the hell he was wrong about that.

Scorpius peered at him intently. There were times when he felt Scorpius was able to read his thoughts, although he knew that he couldn't. He was still managing to keep a lot of secrets from Scorpius. But his time on board the Peacekeeper vessel had taken its toll. Scorpius now knew way too much for Crichton's peace of mind. And Scorpius would hate knowing that Crichton had the ability to read his mind - a secret that he knew his life depended on keeping.

"What was the name of the prisoner scientist, John?" Scorpius inquired.

Crichton had hoped he wouldn't ask. He really didn't want to give the hybrid any more information than he already had. But he knew Scorpius could access records that would tell him what he wanted to know. He didn't see any way around it. "Kaarvok," he responded quietly. Even without Mike's mind reading ability he could see the name meant something to Scorpius. He hoped he hadn't just given Scorpius the block he needed.

Then Scorpius asked one more question, "Where is Jack now?"

"He's in heaven Scorpius, so you'll never see him again," Crichton responded with satisfaction.

Scorpius looked irritated for a moment, and then said one last thing to him before the Peacekeepers hauled him back to his quarters, "You will not mention any of this to anyone."

Crichton had learned. He responded without hesitation, "Yes sir!" He returned to his room, wondering why Scorpius had felt the need to ask for his silence. _Who the hell does he think I'd talk to on this ship?_


	12. Oh thank you dear God, it's sweet!

  
  


Chapter 12.  
"Oh thank you dear God, it's sweet!"

  


There had been no needles for at least two days now, and he was fairly certain that his body had achieved the necessary stabilization. All he needed was some time alone. But, so far, he was too closely monitored to achieve that. He no sooner had that thought then two Peacekeeper soldiers came to his room to escort him to Scorpius' quarters.

Scorpius barely waited until the door had closed behind him. "Crichton, Peacekeeper High Command has decided to commission you as a lieutenant."

Crichton stared at him in shock.

"Why?" was all he managed to say.

"You are a war hero, Crichton. Peacekeeper High Command has determined that you are to be given a medal. And they feel a hero should not be uncommissioned." Scorpius continued, "You will, therefore, be given a uniform to wear, and a medal. And you will take the Peacekeeper oath." Mike quickly told him that Scorpius had become an officer because he had helped destroy a dreadnaught. _Great, one more thing we have in common._ And then it hit him. He was also a hybrid now. _Oh, hell._

"I've already taken a military oath, Scorpius. On earth. And I'm already an IASA officer. So, thanks, but no thanks." He added, as an afterthought, "Sir."

Scorpius stood still for a moment, just looking at him. "Crichton, we have discussed this before. I am your superior officer, and you will do as I say. You will wear the uniform, and you will take the oath. And that is final." He turned to leave the room, and Crichton spoke to his retreating back, "No, sir."

Scorpius turned back around, a questioning look on his face. His calm voice belied the anger it hid, "Why are you being insubordinate, Crichton?"

"Because, Scorpius, if they make me a Peacekeeper hero they might as well paint a target on my back, 'cause every Scarren in the UT would be gunning for me."

Scorpius stared at him.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Crichton requested.

"Proceed," Scorpius responded curtly.

"Do you still have the vidchip?" he asked.

"You have been told not to mention that," Scorpius stated, in a threatening voice.

"Sorry, sir, but I need to know the answer," Crichton told him. Scorpius tried to stare him down, but Crichton kept eye contact. It was too important.

"All right, Crichton, yes, I still have it," Scorpius finally responded.

Crichton was visibly relieved. Then he asked another question, "And did you tell them that it was my twin who took out the dreadnaught?"

He could tell Scorpius didn't want to answer his question. He waited as Scorpius made his decision. "No." _And that's why you didn't want me talking._ Crichton now felt he had enough information to continue.

"You've opened Pandora's Box, Scorpius. And you might have time to close it back up again - but only if you act quickly." He held up his hand to stop Scorpius from speaking. "You think about it - they might as well put a target on my back. And yours. They wouldn't make me a war hero if they were planning to keep what they think I did under wraps." At Scorpius' questioning look he added, "Secret. So the Scarrens will find out, that's a given."

"You think we can hang together after that? Study wormholes during our leisure time? Well, I can tell you from firsthand experience - you do not get to do much studying while you're on the run. Once the Scarrens know what I've done, do you really think they won't come after me? And once High Command realizes they've made me a target - what do you think they'll do?" I'm betting they send for me, maybe at the same time they come to get the vidchip. They'll tell you they're the only ones who can keep me safe. And once they have me, do you think they'll patiently work to unlock the wormhole information in my head? Not likely. But, hey, nevermind. It won't be your worry anymore. Some other scientist will be gathering that information from my mind so Peacekeeper Command can make the decision how to best utilize it. And, by the way, I feel I should remind you at this point - these would be the same guys who think it's a great idea to make `John' a Peacekeeper hero."

Scorpius stared at him for a moment, and then began pacing the room. Crichton watched him, thinking hard about what he needed to say to convince him.

Scorpius finally turned to him, "So what do you suggest, John?" he quietly inquired. Good. He was following him just fine.

"If they order you to turn me and the vidchip over to Peacekeeper Command, Scorpius, you can kiss the wormhole knowledge goodbye, because I don't intend to survive that little trip. And you have no guarantee that without me you can solve the wormhole equations." He looked meaningfully at Scorpius, and the hybrid nodded curtly. Scorpius needed Crichton alive. He didn't doubt his prisoner would find an effective way to end his life - he had already demonstrated what he was capable of. And Crichton had taken the time to educate Scorpius - CPR wasn't 100% effective. He had taken a huge risk.

"And you can't just destroy the vidchip, because Command already knows you have it. So you really have, as I see it, one choice. Give me the vidchip and let me escape with it. I'll destroy the recording and you and I get to keep working on the wormhole knowledge -separately, but alive to still do it. The proof on that recording doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot right now anyway. I didn't do any of it and neither of us can reproduce what happened. You and I would be Scarren targets for no reason, and we've already talked about how that would play out. We both stand to lose everything. My way, you have at least a chance of finding me again and collecting your little neurochip. And in the meantime you and I can just go on like none of this happened."

"I could remove my neurochip now," Scorpius pointed out.

Crichton was stunned for a moment, but quickly recovered. Scorpius couldn't know the chip wasn't ready to come out, and that it hadn't obtained any information. "Yeah, you could," he slowly told the hybrid, "but the rest would still play out the same and you still don't know if you can solve the encrypted codes without me."

_Crichton, let him take out the neurochip,_ Mike whispered urgently in his mind. Crichton ignored him as Scorpius began speaking again.

"John, your view of this situation has been, to say the least, interesting." Scorpius picked up a uniform laying on a shelf, and handed it to Crichton. "Now, you will put on this uniform and prepare to receive your commission. Under the circumstances, I am going to overlook your insubordination, since High Command wants you to be seen as a hero, and regardless of whether you think that decision is questionable, you will nevertheless comply with _my_ order." He handed Crichton the uniform and motioned for him to use the washroom to change. Crichton took the uniform from him and sighed. Next thing he knew, he was on the floor. The hybrid had struck so fast he hadn't seen it coming. _Damn it._ He'd forgotten, again. He looked up at Scorpius and said, belatedly, "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

"As you should be," Scorpius told him. Then he exited the room.

Crichton rubbed the side of his face for a moment, then slowly picked himself up off the floor. Still holding the uniform, he walked into the washroom. He had failed to make Scorpy see reason, and he was unaccountably disappointed in the hybrid. He admitted to himself it was not just because he wouldn't give him the vidchip and his freedom, thereby making everything that much harder, if not impossible. He had actually hoped that Scorpius would see the bigger picture and not just blindly follow orders. And he knew himself to be, once again, an unrealistic optimist. He was speculating about how hard he would have to hit Scorpy to knock him out when the vidchip fell to the floor. Scorpius had hidden it in the uniform. He was giving Crichton his tacit approval to proceed with his plan. _Aeryn, baby, I'm comin' home!_

He had to be sure he wasn't being tricked. As soon as he finished dressing he went back into Scorpy's sleeping area and placed the vidchip in the machine Scorpius' had used, making certain he had the real recording. Satisfied it was the genuine article, he took his ring and placed it against the vidchip, directing its power to destroy it. The vidchip disintegrated - seeming to completely atomize in his hand. He thought back to what the Dom had told him his ring "contained" - an infinitesimally small portion of a quantum singularity. His ability to use the ring to manipulate temporal reality truly amazed him, and he was getting better at controlling that power as he continued to use the ring.

He had no sooner completed the task than Scorpius returned to his quarters.

"Crichton, it is time for you to take the Peacekeeper oath and receive your officer's commission. Follow me," Scorpius said as he turned and left the room again. Crichton realized he would have to play along with High Command - and he told himself that since he was taking the oath under duress it was not binding, legally or in any other way. If the Peacekeepers didn't feel the same way about it that was too damn bad. He wouldn't be in their military any longer than was absolutely necessary to gain access to his module and escape.

The ceremony was short. He took the oath and Scorpius made a brief statement and then pinned the medal on Crichton's chest. He felt it was fitting - even though his oath and commission were a sham, his twin did deserve the medal, and he found he was actually honored to accept it on his behalf. He would give it to Aeryn when they were reunited. He didn't have long to savor the moment - Scorpius motioned him again to follow, and he found himself headed to the medical lab, and he knew why. Mike had told him to get the chip out - he could not fight off Harvey endlessly, and they had reached an agreement. More than anything else, Harvey did not want Crichton to die en route to Peacekeeper headquarters. So he had agreed to pretend to be the new neuroclone and he would tell Scorpius that he had the wormhole information. _Thanks, Mike - you'll have to teach me your skills of persuasion some time._ But Crichton would have to escape soon - before Scorpius discovered the truth. And that suited Crichton just fine. He was fairly certain he had outstayed his welcome.

He was already familiar with the process, but it didn't make it any easier. Having Scorpius crawling around in his mind again, after all that he had suffered at his hands, was abhorrent to him. But he wanted the chip out, and he would do whatever it took to achieve that end. Not that he really had a choice. Scorpius had assured him that removing the chip would be painless. It was the part before that - when the hybrid actually entered his mind - that gave a new meaning to pain, leaving Crichton temporarily paralyzed. The Harvey clone delivered as promised, convincing Scorpius that the neurochip was ready for removal. The medical technicians put him under, and he remembered nothing more until waking in the bed he had been sleeping in since coming back on board the Peacekeeper vessel. And now there was nothing to keep him on the command carrier.

He checked with Mike to make sure no new neurochips had been put in place, and Mike assured him only himself and Harvey were in residence. Crichton was headed to the docking bay as soon as he was able to stand, feeling an urgent need to make his escape. And this time, he reflected, he would have no reason to return. Better still - if Scorpius couldn't explain the missing vidchip and the escaped prisoner/war hero, Crichton had a chance of the hybrid not being allowed to continue to pursue him or waste any more time on wormhole research.

The module was exactly where he had left it. He pressed the ring against his chest and began moving at an impossibly high speed - he suspected he would appear only as a blur or possibly an odd ripple in the air to the soldiers in the area. They all appeared to him to be moving in impossibly slow motion - and then he was in his module and headed out of the docking bay, taking delight in using its weapons capability for the first time by blasting the doors to create his exit. He knew Scorpius would not order him shot down. Prowlers would pursue, of course, but with his modifications he could easily smoke 'em. He had never felt so elated. He was heading back to rendezvous with Talyn. He was coming back to Aeryn. He had kept his promise.

  
* * *

  
  


Crais noticed him on the tracking system first. "Aeryn, I am picking up Crichton's module. He should be here in about two arns." He turned his head and caught the look on her face. Joy? Love? Crais knew he had lost her. Not that she had ever been his, but he had hoped. In fact, he had actually counted on the opportunity to build a relationship with her. And now he knew she would never stay on Talyn, not if the human hybrid made her feel emotions that strong. Again. He admitted to himself that he had never counted on Crichton surviving. It didn't seem fair that he had overcome such incredible odds. Crais found himself hoping that Crichton would be damaged in mind or body - unacceptable in some way. But he knew he could by no means count on Aeryn rejecting Crichton even under those circumstances. No, he sensed that he would be traveling again with only Talyn as his companion. He had always counted on outliving Crichton, but now he suspected that Scorpius had taken even that hope from him, no doubt extending Crichton's pitifully short lifespan with DNA manipulations. _No, life has definitely not been fair to me,_ Crais reflected.

Aeryn was waiting for him as he docked, right next to the replicated module. _His module._ There would probably always be reminders. It was unavoidable, and Crichton realized he had to accept it. He climbed down from his ship and turned to face her. She seemed frozen in place. He thought for a moment and then told her, "The chip is gone, Aeryn. Scorpius took it out just before I escaped." The look on her face was all the reward he thought he would need - for now. She ran to him, leapt into his arms, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He caught her, twirled her around, both of them laughing out of pure joy, and then they kissed, a long and deep kiss. They didn't leave the docking bay for a long time.

They had finally gone to bed, actually meaning to sleep. As they snuggled against each other Aeryn finally asked him, "How did you escape? I noticed you were wearing some officer's uniform."

Crichton smiled at her, "Actually, that's _my_ uniform. High Command decided to commission me and pin a medal on my chest. You are sleeping with a Peacekeeper Lieutenant." He looked over on the floor and spotted his jacket, too far away to reach. He'd have to give her the medal later.

Aeryn grinned back at him, "I'm glad I got out while they still had some standards!" She laughed as he responded by playfully shoving her out of their bed.

  
* * *

  
  


They lay in each other's arms. Crichton knew she was asleep, but he didn't want to close his eyes. She looked so beautiful. He was so amazingly lucky to have her in his arms, in his bed, holding him, loving him, wanting and needing him. They had both been so afraid they would never have a moment's peace, much less time to love each other, to make plans and talk about a future for themselves. Talyn had found Moya and they had reunited with their shipmates. Chiana had cooked a feast to welcome them home, and even Rygel seemed happy to see them both alive. And they were all overjoyed and, frankly, relieved to see that Aeryn and Crichton were back together again. But Crichton had plans. Moya headed back to Desnia on his command, with the consent of all his shipmates when he explained it to them. And there, he had the honeymoon with Aeryn that the scrolls had foretold. Crichton was given a ring that had been set aside for Aeryn three centuries before, at the same time that his ring had been forged. He placed it on her finger, and they kissed and exchanged vows.

And then Aeryn had taken out the vial she had saved from the Royal Planet - placing a drop on Crichton's tongue and another on her own - and they tenderly touched tongues to activate the solution. They both paused a moment before kissing, not knowing if they were still compatible, and finding themselves anxious about it. Then they kissed, and as they pulled back slightly from each other, Crichton found himself foolishly grinning. _It's sweet, oh thank you dear God, it's sweet!_ Aeryn's smile reflected his own, and they kissed again, not even breaking the kiss as he swept her into his arms and crossed the threshold into their palace suite - _our honeymoon suite_. The Desnians were celebrating his success and safe return. And John and Aeryn were celebrating as well, in the time-honored tradition of lovers everywhere.

  
  


The End.


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue

  


She lay sleeping as he slipped out of the warmth of her embrace and quietly dressed. He needed to get away from her, perhaps even several tiers away, so he wouldn't disturb her. His head pounded with a familiar blinding pain. Mike and Harvey. They really needed to try to get along better than this. He tried to mentally contact Mike. No response. _Harvey?_ Silence. But the pain told him they were both there, battling each other. Again. He was grateful they had not done this during his time with Aeryn on Desnia. He would always remember their time together as near perfection. It would have been absolutely perfect if the honeymooners had been allowed to remain alone the entire time, but the populace clamored for him and he had to occasionally appear at dinners - in his honor - and other functions of like nature. He knew he owed his life and happiness to the people of Desnia, and so he was willing to honor their requests, hard as it was for him to tear himself from Aeryn's arms and the bed they shared. She went with him whenever possible, but she was not comfortable with it, and he knew and accepted that she needed some time to herself occasionally. And he had gone with the Dom down into the catacombs to study the scrolls. He still had so much more that he was supposed to do. His time with Aeryn would be a treasured peaceful interlude. He still wasn't sure how accurate the scrolls were - but he had learned that the knowledge he gained from them would need to be factored into his future decisions. Other than the things that tore him from Aeryn's side, their time together on Desnia was perfect.

He walked along Moya's corridors, occasionally bringing the ring up to his head, but getting little relief. He consistently moved away from the sleeping area, searching for a place where he could scream, if needed, and not disturb any of his shipmates. It was getting more and more unbearable, and he wasn't certain he could handle whatever was coming. He suspected Harvey had decided to make his move. The neuroclone no doubt saw this as his chance to try to dominate or destroy the little warton, and Crichton found himself wondering if his mind would be destroyed in the process. Just as he had that thought a pain shot through his head that caused him to partially faint, falling to his knees in agony. He was writhing on the floor, crying out from the intensity of the pain - it felt as though his brain was being ripped apart. Then he was screaming, and he couldn't stop. And he remembered nothing more.

Aeryn found him lying in the corridor. Something had brought her to instant wakefulness, but she was not sure what it had been. She noticed John was gone, and she got up to search for him. And she found him, unconscious in a hallway three tiers away. She ran to his prone body, quickly checking his pulse and feeling relief at the steady strong beat she found. She cradled his head in her lap, talking to him and trying to revive him, worried about what might have happened. _Did Scorpius found a way to do something else to him? Something we haven't detected?_ Finally, he moaned and opened his eyes. 

"Aeryn?" he whispered.

"Yes, John, I'm here," she whispered back, not sure why they were whispering. "What happened to you, John?"

He stared at her for a moment, and then softly told her, "I'm not sure. Can I get back to you on that?"

At her worried look, he quickly reassured her, "I'm okay, Aeryn, really, I just need to get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning. Promise." 

"Yes, we will," she told him, and he knew he had a lot of explaining to do. As they walked back to their quarters, her arm around his waist helping him, he mentally tried to check in with Mike and Harvey. Silence again. _Have they killed each other?_ He knew he would miss Mike, but Harvey...

He turned and kissed Aeryn, grinning boyishly at the thought that he might finally be rid of Scorpy's annoying clone. They slowly walked down Moya's corridors, returning to the quarters they now shared. _Maybe my luck is finally changing._

Several arns later, as John slept blissfully unaware, Harvey regained consciousness.


End file.
